


What is Dead

by HappyDagger



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anarchy, Cages, Collars, F/M, Leashes, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Survival, Worship, Zombies, characters from asoiaf, mix of plots, the world of The Walking Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyDagger/pseuds/HappyDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon is trying to hold together a group of survivors after the death of one leader and loss of another. Things are falling apart and he has many difficult choices to make.</p><p>The white walkers pass through in one herd after another without an end in sight. Other survivors can prove more dangerous than the undead. He has to choose to he can trust and who he can fight.</p><p>He can't afford to choose wrong.</p><p>He can't pretend he doesn't want a happy ending.</p><p> </p><p>(Walking Dead-influenced setting Game of Thrones modern au characters.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Float like a Feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nanjcsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/gifts).



“Here they come!” Meera called from the cabin roof. She counted heads. “They’re all there,” she shouted, “and someone’s with them.”

“What?” Theon shielded his eyes to see her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” A boy cried.

Theon leaned back and squinted. “God damn it, Brandon! Get off my fucking mast!” Theon’s hair had echoes of bright auburn where lit by the dropping sun. Bran slid down behind him. _“I_ swear if you bent that fucking spreader... ” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t put a foot on the boom either!” _Gas runs out, the wind doesn't. Why don't they get that?_

The boat rocked gently when Meera landed with a thunk on the deck. She handed Theon the binoculars. “Look at their guests.”

He adjusted the scope and smirked as he clenched his jaw. “Scavengers.”

 

“Lower the ramp. Stay with it, Hodor! Meera, watch the treeline. Everyone else, eyes on the shore!” He pinched a slick bow and pulled it from his quiver.

“Drop the plank!” Robb ordered.

Theon rolled his eyes. "Listen! They're coming.”

“I know.” Robb waved Jory, Kyra, then a man and woman on.

“Wait!” Theon jumped up to block the strangers from boarding. “We don’t _know_ them!”

“I can’t leave them to that."

“Let us on!” The stranger drew his gun and aimed it at Bran. “Let us on now, motherfucker or the little one-” The man dropped, it seemed, before the arrow even made a sound. A perfect head shot. They always were. They had to be.

“THEON!” Robb shoved him back. 

He stumbled against the cabin. That’s when he saw them. _I could never make that many arrows_ , he lamented. 

Robb stomped over to put his perfectly symmetrical, freckled milk-white face in Theon’s.

“What? He was threatening your little brother.”

“ _My_ brother. _My_ family. _Mine_ to protect. My call, Greyjoy.”

Hodor pulled the ramp in as the Scavenger woman dropped to her knees to beg for her life.

"Fine. Pull up the anchor!" Theon grinned at Robb then rushed up to the bridge.

 

_“Happy birthday.” Maron tossed him something silver._

_It was cool and heavy in his palm. “What is it?”_

_“A compass.”_

_Balon shoved past Maron and took the duffle bag off his son’s shoulder. “It’s not his fucking birthday."_

_“Oh? What day is it?”_

_“It’s summer.”  Balon began pulling out and sorting loot as Maron paced behind him. He threw up a liquor bottle and caught it._

_“How do you work it?”_

_Maron smirked. “You open it, dumb ass.” He snatched the bottle away long enough to take a few swigs then shoved it into his father's chest. “It was a good run.”_

_“Can I try?” Theon got up on his tiptoes to peer over the counter._

_Balon coughed into his fist and downed his share. “When you can go out like a man and take a bottle for yourself.”_

_Maron looked down at Theon with what he hoped was concern but felt was disgust. “He’s just a boy.”_

 

He ran his thumb over the cool metal in his pocket. The North Star was embossed on the polished steel. He didn’t need it to navigate the Mississippi; it always pulls you down.

“Hey.” Robb ducked as he stepped up into the cockpit.

“We’re almost there.”

“I know.” He sat on the bench to Theon’s left. “How does the shore look?”

“The banks are clear. It’s nice and muddy.” Theon smirked. “I love your red clay sometimes.” Robb stared at Theon until he finally said, "What?” through clenched teeth and a wide grin.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Well? I don’t belong here. Do I, Robb?”

Robb stood and walked behind Theon’s chair. He smelled impossibly good in a world with little soap and no cologne. “I want to trust you.”

“We’re here.”

Robb peered through the window. “Let’s dock in the morning.”

Theon nodded. “Take the helm. I’ll drop anchor and douse the sails.”

Robb looked around the room, wide-eyed. A smile slowly spread on his face.

“Don’t be an idiot. The helm.”

Robb saluted. His eyes were a warm, light steel blue. He seemed so sunny as he laughed, now leaning to one side. Jon’s eyes were a cold, dark brown and Theon missed seeing them to his great surprise.

“The steering wheel,” Theon finally exclaimed and ducked to hurry down to the deck. He wasn’t about to _not_ be mad at Robb just because he was smiling and acting like a- “Jackass.”

 

“Hey.” When Theon returned the kerosene lamp was swaying gently and the moon had disappeared. He tried to sound stoic. “May storm tonight.”

Robb spun lazily in the captain's chair and looked at Theon over his shoulder.

“I got the first watch. Jojen’s at the stern.”

Robb smirked. “Ninjas would beat pirates, Theon.”

“They would not!” Theon stomped in exasperation.

“Ha ha! It’s funny when you try to act stern and cold. I can always get you with how fucking stupid pirates are.”

“ _You’re_ stupid,” Theon muttered.

“Whoa.” Robb raised his palms in mock defenselessness.

“ _I_ didn’t try to bring Scavengers on to the boat.”

“She’s just a girl. You killed the man.” Robb said cooly. It wasn’t an act for him. He was very much like his father.

“The _woman_ is a Scavenger.”

“And you are a Raider,” Robb said plainly, as though it weren't an insult, but a truth that couldn’t be excused nonetheless.

But what had he ever raided? The actions of his father wasn’t a condition which could be passed down through blood, as the Starks seemed to think. He probably would be good at raiding, he was good at lots of things, but he couldn’t guilty of things he may have possibly in another life, or by virtue of his name alone.

“How did you learn all this?” Robb said softly. Theon couldn’t make out his face well enough to discern his expression. “Did your brother teach you?”

Theon grinned and leaned against the wall, running his thumb and forefinger up and down his quiver’s leather strap. “If any of my original family was left, they would have come for me long ago. You and Bran are my only brothers now. Go on and get some sleep, Robb.”

They stared at each one another in silence.

When his father threw him out, Maron was the only one to open his door. It took Theon weeks to find him. Most of what he knew had actually come from reading books by flashlight under his covers when his Balon was yelling and things were crashing downstairs. He couldn’t tell Robb these things. Not ever.

He had taught Robb everything he thought the boy would need to know and Robb used to look up at Theon like he was amazing. His little face was still so serious then, like he was already carrying the burden of a significant life.

At last, a thin sly smile broke on Theon’s face. “I'll go see Kyra then. I’m sure she’s waiting.”

“You should ask her. She’ll tell you, Greyjoy.” Robb said and turned around to watch the river ahead of them.

“What?”

“That pirates would always lose to ninjas.”

Theon snorted. “Night night, Stark.”

 


	2. Living like a Dog

Kyra woke before dawn to birds chirping on the shore. It never stopped being a comfort that life had continued, in some ways, as it always had. She heard a dry scraping sound and sat up. “Come to bed. It’s still early.”

He sat on the floor whittling an arrow and staring out the open pocket door. “I’m watching her.”

“I talked to her last night. She’s from Guatemala. Can you imagine what hell she went through to get here just for the world to break when she made it?” Kyra stretched and propped a pillow up to lean against.

“Remember the man she came with?”

“Remember the man you came with?”

Theon’s eyes fluttered briefly then strained to open. He smiled. “I keep telling you, you shouldn’t trust me either.”

“Theon.”

He glanced her way. God, she was always gorgeous. Furious or exhausted, by candlelight or under the midday southern sun, emerging clean from the falls, even covered in gore, she was always strong and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful in yet another way.

“It’s the end of the world.”

“I know.”

“This is literally your last chance to stop being so full of shit all the time.”

He grinned and he went back to his work. The birds kept up their happy chatter, and the sun rose again.

 

“You really want to bring her into the mall? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” Robb scoffed. “She’s smaller and weaker than you. She’s also an unarmed girl.”

Theon went back to pacing the narrow path of side deck, running his fingers over the railing. “I know that _I_ can take her, Robb. What about Bran and Sansa? We should keep her with us, at least until we can trust her.”

“We’ll keep her locked up until I can trust her. We need all the people we have to carry back supplies.”

Theon scanned the shore yet again. He couldn’t stop. “I’ll get the raft then.”

 

A metal arch welcomed them to the Riverwalk with burnt out lights and bright, peeling colors. The four foot high spiral of barbed wire served to quickly negate that invitation.

The Wolfpack and their captives walked between the sharp defensive barrier and the charming rod iron guard rail which cheerfully hoped to protect them from falling. They came to a halt when Osha started laughing.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Theon sneered pushing his chest into hers until she stumbled back.

“Enough,” Robb warned.

“It’s a playground!” She doubled over laughing.

Robb frowned. “It’s too complicated for the Walkers.”

“I think it’s called a jungle gym. No, a treehouse?” Kyra giggled.

Jojen snorted and Meera elbowed him gently.

Robb regarded the group as though he expected better behavior from them. He wasn’t even a man yet, not really. Still, he could do that to people and change them.

Osha balked at the mall’s pristine glass high above them. _Impossible_. Looking over her shoulder, she felt she could run for the river. It wasn’t too far a drop from the sidewalk. The bank would make a soft landing. But they would have the high ground and their guns. “It won’t keep people out. How can you live here?”

Theon raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. “It doesn’t and we don’t.”

Robb started to climb up the steep slide by pressing against the edges. It did look pretty funny, actually. Theon glanced over his shoulder at Jory.

He shrugged and smiled back.“Hey, it gets you past the barbed wire and spikes.” He leaned closer to Osha. “It’s also fun coming down.”

Osha continued to look dismayed.

“We’ve made it this long,” Meera said warmly. She went next.

“Theon, come guard the raft with me,” Kyra asked, touching his arm.

He scoffed. “I have a meeting to go. It can’t start without me.” He clenched his cigarette between his teeth when he grinned widely at her. His eyebrows popped up over his aviator sunglasses, and she wondered how things hadn’t changed him yet? What the hell could change him, or what had already before the rest of the world went to shit?

She turned away from Theon and took Jory’s hand. “Please come with me. It’s not safe to be alone anymore.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not even here.”

 

“He’s never coming back,” she confided when they got to the boardwalk. “Tell Robb not to go, Jory. We can’t lose him too. We can't afford it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I do. He would have come back by now, or sent word if was able. Three seasons have come and gone. Talk to Robb.”

“I’m not sure that I-” they both froze and pulled their weapons when something thumped ten paces behind them.

“Kyra!” Theon called from the sidewalk, leaning on the guardrail. “Get my fucking arrow! Perfect headshot, Kyra!” He sized up Jory and stared meaningfully at her before giving them both a thumbs up and sly grin. “Always is!”

“FULL OF SHIT!” She yelled pointing at him.

Jory furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Why didn’t we hear it coming? I hate when they groan, but it's worse when they’re silent.”

Kyra huffed. “It was only one.”

Jory approached the thing to retrieve Theon’s arrow. “Look at this. What kind of scar is that? Kyra, look at his chest.”

“I’ve seen enough.”

 

Theon rolled his newest attempt at an arrow back and forth on the table top with his index finger, watching the sun warmed grainy white run against the shiny, cool, black surface. He appreciated the contrast.

What kind of meeting was this room actually built for? What did they discuss? How well the new Asian stand was faring in the food court? If they should hire a new marketing consultant? Maybe terminating a contract with the sunglass kiosk harassing guests? How to get maintenance to keep up with stocking toilet paper?

Those problems sounded wonderful. But no one was in a suit now. No one was getting a pedicure at lunch. More than one person at the table was stained with a blood.

“Where is he?” a bearded man demanded.

Theon smirked.They were practically salivating for their leader.

Robb came in with an energetic burst through the door and a solemn look on his handsome face. He addressed them all by name and sat beside Theon. How did this all come so easily to him?

“My friends, I’m happy to report that the city appears to be clear of hostiles from the South. Unfortunately,” he raised his voice so slightly, “after weeks of searching, there was not one group who had seen my father… only more stories of his murder. We do have ammunition, medicine and seeds to share. I just wanted to tell you all myself, before we made our exchanges and disbanded, that I have decided to continue into Lion’s den and seek either my father or my revenge.”

The table exchanged glances with one another.

“I told my sister in private. I’m sure you’ll pardon her absence.”

Theon let his arrow roll into his palm and pushed it away again. He looked up at from table. “Who would come with us?”

“I will,” started to echo through meeting room.

Of course. Theon grinned at Robb but he wasn’t smiling.

“Us? I need you to stay here, Theon.”

“What?”

Robb leaned closer. “I need you to protect my family. I need that from you."

Theon looked down and noticed he’d scratched the marble. He shouldn’t have dropped a rough, crudely made, weapon onto a cool, smooth, finely manufactured table. ‘Contrast’ was a charitable word for it. The thing just didn’t belong.

He snatched it off the table and slid in back into his quiver. “Ok, Robb.”

 

After the meeting, they exchanged and bartered supplies.

Robb left with his followers. He shook Theon’s hand then pulled him into a hug. Then Theon watched Robb leave and hoped to see him again.

When he turned around, he found his group all watching _him_ now. Looking for _him_ to move or speak.

Theon grinned.

 


	3. Look at his Eyes

Osha walked up the few steps up onto the stern deck. The dense air was surprisingly cool. Stars glittered as they rippled across the black water.

“Wanna help?”

She spun around.

“Could you wrap this for me? Just make a horizontal figure 8.” Theon waved her over. “Usually, Robb would do it. I taught him...” He caught himself reminiscing to the stranger of all people. “... a long time ago.”

She started winding the ropes as he directed. “You’re closing the sails?”

“Yeah. We’re here.”

She strained to make out the shore in the dim light of the crescent moon. “Where?” The smattering of wispy trees couldn’t be hiding anything which would keep her safe.

Theon pointed above them.

“The bridge? Where do you take the bridge to?”

“Home is the bridge.”

Osha tensed at thrashing in the river.

“Just a gator,” Theon assured her. “We threw some in a pool a few years ago. They keep walking and clawing, just trying to eat I guess. It looks like they’re drowning. They eventually bloat and fall apart. They can’t swim, or climb ropes, and alligators love them. It’s nice being on my ship.”

“You still have to watch out for other boats.”

Theon laughed. “Here, I’ll tie that off. Good job.”

She stared at him as though struck. Finally, she rolled her parted lips together. “It’s hard on your hands, isn’t it?”

“The rope is tough. It has to be, especially out on the Atlantic where the salt is always leaping from mist and waves to eat it away.” He offered his palm to her. “Feel my hands.”

“I…” Osha backed away towards the cabin door.

“I bet your hands are calloused as well. These people aren’t weathered, though. Not like you and I are. They haven’t lived outside the cozy haven above us. They don’t know what survivors have to do, have to _become_.” He kept walking towards her. “If you hurt my family, I will end you and it won’t be quick and civil because I can’t afford their lofty morals. Our home won’t be safe unless I’m willing to get my hands and soul dirty. And so that’s the kind of person I must be now. I would have to hang you by your entrails from that fucking bridge, just to send a message.”

Theon was panting as hard as she was. They were each stuck in sensations of past misery and near death. He closed his eyes and felt his heart pounding in his temples. “We can be friends. I hope we are. They didn’t trust me when they took in my… me.” He grabbed the railing and closed his eyes.

She fled below deck.

 

_The last arrow hit the outer edge of the bullseye._

_Theon frowned. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Sir?”_

_“Fetch my sword.” Ned’s face was obscured by the sun._

_“Yes, Sir.”_

_“Three bullseyes in thirty seconds. Good job, Theon.” Mr. Stark patted his back and walked into the sunlight._

 

Theon sighed and opened his eyes again. He did his best impression of an owl to get them to drop the latter and buckets.

He knocked on the cabin door before entering. “Time to go home.”

 

Sansa and Jory helped Osha up onto the bridge. “They blew it up at both ends,” Sansa explained softly, “when the national guard was still trying to contain things. Now it's an island in the sky. We converted  the trailers left behind on truck beds into cabins, as best we could. Most of us live in those tents under the canopy. The inbound side is where we’ve set up the gardens and a chicken coop. Maybe you could help us tend them? If you have any medical training, we could always use that as well.”

Osha silently took in the strange camp, high above the Mississippi.

“She’ll be secured in the pen first.” Theon took Osha’s arm. “Let’s go. We’ll talk over breakfast. Everyone get some sleep.”

“Theon, hold up!”

Great, Kyra’s new fucking boyfriend wants to chat. Theon stopped, gritting his teeth. “ _What?_ ”

“I wanted to tell you about that white walker you shot today,” Jory said in a low voice.

“Uh huh.”

“I think we didn’t hear it because it’s tongue had been cut out.”

Theon continued taking Osha to the pen. “It’s alright, man. It happens to everybody. Just stay as vigilant as you can.”

“No, I mean- Theon it was another one. He had an X on his cheekbone, right behind his eye, like the other ones.”

“Huh…” Theon slowed down and looked Osha over to see if her expression bore any hint of recognition. “I wonder what it means?”

“The X on this one had healed years ago. I think you were right. It isn’t part of some death ritual. This one had ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his chest. That wound was new. It hadn’t even scabbed. The blood only ran dry and you could see the white fat underneath.”

Osha groaned.

“Thanks, Jory. Let’s keep an eye out. Sounds like a cult, gang or other coalition of fucked up shitheads whose dicks we want to keep out of our fucking peanut butter.”

 

“Unlock it,” Theon ordered.

Osha stepped back looking at the back of an eighteen wheeler. Most of the trucks were parked like a circus caravan on the other side of the bridge. This one was alone, guarded, and didn't have windows, just slits at the top.

Wex pulled out the key and dropped to fumble with it in the dark until the padlock popped open. “Heard you have a good deal of fish in your well.”

“Yep. We’ll have a real dinner tomorrow night.” He glanced at Osha. “I’ll bring you food and water after-”

“Theon!”

_God. Not now._

“You cannot leave her in there.”

Theon grinned. “She’s a stranger, Dr. Luwin. I was just telling the lady that I’ll bring her dinner shortly.”

“No, stop and listen to me. There is a prisoner in there and no woman should be left alone with him.”

He frowned and rolled the door up. A boy sitting in the far corner tilted his head. Theon strained to see him by the light of a kerosene lamp hanging near the entrance. “He’s chained.” Theon shrugged. “We’ll set up her cot right here so it’s out of his reach. Ok?” Theon smiled widely and pushed her in. “Just stay away from him,” he advised then tried to push past Dr. Luwin.

“Theon, what is her crime?” He asked with strained patience.

“ _Nothing_. I’m not punishing her. I’m making sure she _doesn’t_ commit a crime here! She’s a stranger!”

“You  and your brother were strangers to us once, Mr. Greyjoy. And Maron, who brought you, who very nearly raised you-”

“Yes. I remember. Why does everyone seem to think I’m in danger of forgetting that Ned Stark murdered my brother? That he or Robb would do the same to me? I fucking remember. Get the hell out of my way.”

“Theon…” Dr. Luwin shook his head and worried for the boy, for all of them.

 

“Hey, Wex. Did you eat?” Theon carried two pails with him.

“Nah, man. Not yet. You mind?” 

“I’ll be here until you come back.” He peered inside the trailer. “Oh, what the fuck? Where is she?”

“Sansa invited the girl to-”

Theon put up his hands. “Fine. Whatever. Go eat.” He sighed set one pail on the floor. He took the kerosene lamp from its hook and carried it with him, down to the back of the trailer. “Here.”

The boy looked at the pail and then at Theon as though he wasn’t too impressed with either.

“It’s food, asshole. And _clean_ water.” Theon kicked it closer to him.

“Why?”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘ _Why_ ’?”

“Well,” the boy shrugged and tipped the pail to examine its contents. “They want to kill me tomorrow morning. Does this mean you’re going to help me out with that?”

“What?” Theon looked over his shoulder. The door was still open. It had already rolled back and caught.

“Oh. Sorry. I thought you were in charge here.”

“I am!"

The boy rolled his eyes up to rest on Theon’s. “It, uh, just doesn’t seem like that old man thinks so.”

Theon huffed and rubbed his forehead. “He’s… fucking senile.”

The boy’s laugh was a stabbing bark that filled the trailer. Orange light from the lamp on the floor made his face look like a theatre mask. The changes sweeping across it were suitably dramatic. “Did You catch all those fish? Bring the rice? Hunt the duck? Have you had one bite of the food _you_ brought the people who don't trust you?”

“You heard that?” Theon muttered.

“Sit down.” The boy reached into the pail. “Apple?”

Theon exhaled slowly and slid against the wall to the floor. “Sure.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Everything. You like rum?” Theon slung his quiver around to his chest and pulled out his arrows, the false bottom, and then his flask. He took a swig and offered it.

“Well, what a nice way to die. Cheers.” The boy downed a good bit of Theon’s rum, but he didn’t mind.

“Why do they want to kill you?”

The boy looked at him raising one eyebrow and slowly tilted the flask back down. He rubbed his mouth. “I was with the wrong people. My friend... he changed. What can I say? He changed after the world ended and he did some terrible things. Still, he kept me alive.”

The boy looked away and cleared his throat. “He exchanged protection for sexual favors. It’s not that he forced anyone, exactly, but… in this world, it’s not really a choice, is it? Not for a girl, like the one you wanted locked away in here. That’s why your doctor came with another, very pretty girl, and took the wild one away.”

Theon shook his head. “That woman I brought here was a Scavenger. Who knows what she’s had to do and what she’s willing to do now. She could have a whole tribe out there just waiting for her signal.”

The boy jerked his head back in surprise and smirked. “You’re a lot smarter than you look.”

“The fuck? I look amazing! Are you- drink some water and get some sleep, you’re vision must be blurred.” Theon’s sharp smile hardly concealed his sneer. He started to lift himself off the floor but the boy yanked him down by his wrist.

“It’s not her you have to worry about or even the doctor.”

Theon caught himself and pulled away. “What do you mean?”

“One of your so-called allies came to take a look at me yesterday, the old man who killed my friend. They all think I’m an idiot who’ll die soon so they don’t give a shit what they say in front of me.”

The boy surveyed his prison with a smirk. “It’s a good place to plan, don’t you think? No one wants to come near it and it only looks like they’re discussing how or if they should kill the prisoner. But that isn't what they were discussing, Theon.”

“What were they…”

“That old man and the doctor are pretty chummy. They both miss the man who built this place. They’re both sure his stubborn son will never find him and nor even come back.”

Theon shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

The boy kicked Theon’s thigh. “Eat.”

His hand plucked the apple from the floor. “What else did they say?”

The boy stared at him. His intense expression was unreadable. It was maddening; one second, one degree away from revealing something vital.

Theon took a bite and studied him. The apple was wonderfully sweet and juicy. “Well?”

The boy smiled.


	4. Shot by Both Sides

Theon woke to a zip at his feet. He sat up and pulled his gun out from under his pillow then felt around for the pocket on his quiver and grabbed the leather handle of his hunting knife.The moon was obscured by heavy clouds. Theon couldn’t make out a silhouette through his tent’s canvas.  “Who is it?”

The zipper stopped about a foot off the ground. “Are you awake?”

Theon relaxed. “Yeah, kid.” He put his weapons aside and rolled the zipper up and around to open his little door. “You ok?”

“I can’t sleep.” His hair was wild and brighter then. His freckles were more pronounced, running all under his eyes and over his nose. He must have been… eight, maybe? Yet, Robb acted like the veteran he was. His parents had agonized over it, but Theon understood. Not everyone gets a childhood.

Theon watched Robb's little shadow zip the door shut then felt him crawling inside. “I can’t sleep. They won’t stop.”

“I know.”

“I saw her.”

Theon sat up.

“What if she’s calling for me? My father should have killed her.”

“God, Robb,” Theon rumbled. He had woken up with a completely new voice one day, and now that it had finally been broken in, it felt like he should be able to say the right things with it when it mattered. “It’s not really her. You should remember how much she loved you; _that_ was your mother.”

“I want them to all go away. I hate the walkers.”

Theon nodded and squeezed Robb to his side then laid back down. “Well, those aren’t walkers.”

Robb furrowed his pale brow in the dark. “Yes, they are. They keep falling off the bridge.”

“Nope. Pirates.”

Robb huffed. “That’s stupid, Theon.”

“Oh, really? Fucking listen to them. What are they saying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen! They’re saying, ‘Arrrrggghhh.' Pirates.”

“No, they aren’t,” Robb laughed.

“Yeah huh they are, Robb. They’re not falling off the bridge, stupid. They’re walking the plank.”

“Well, why are they on a bridge instead of a pirate ship?”

“Their ship was stolen,” Theon decided.

“By who?”

“By whom, Robb. ‘By whom was the pirate’s ship stolen?’ The true apocalypse starts when you give in to bad grammar,” Theon remarked in his best nun impression.

Robb laughed and Theon’s heavy heart grew even lighter.

“Must have been stolen by ninjas. Ninjas hate pirates. Everyone knows that.”

“No, they don't.” Robb’s hidden smile permeated his voice.

“Oh? Really? Have you ever seen a pirate and ninja hanging out? Or having a picnic together? Dancing in a fountain? Of course not, Robb. Don't be ridiculous.”

Robb’s laughter never failed to be an unexpected geyser from cool, still waters. It must have reassured his parents that he didn’t die inside after all, and they did they best they could for him.

“Theon, Can I stay with you?”

“I don’t think your father-”

Suddenly Robb’s voice was closer. “Then don't tell him. Move over.”

“Robb! I have fucking pubes now-”

“Liar.”

“What?!”

“Jon says you're a liar.”

Theon laughed. “He’s just jealous.”

“Why would he be jealous? He’s hairier than you,” Robb said impatiently.

“Yeah, but I'm a man, ha ha.”

“No, you aren’t,” Robbs warm breath insisted. “We’re still kids.”

" _You_ are and that's why I can't lay next to you naked. There are laws… I mean, there were, for a reason.”

“You’re only four years older. Put some boxers on and move over.”

“Get- Robb! What is that? Get off of me! Hold on.” Theon groaned and crawled out of his sleeping bag. He felt around for his trench coat and pulled it over his chest and shoulders. “There. You can have the sleeping bag, you fucking brat.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Theon closed his eyes, yawning. “Don't worry about it.”

 

Theon laid on his back, staring at the roof. It was rusting in one corner where a dent had collected rainwater. He finally rolled over and looked at Robb’s empty cot.

 

It was miserably bright outside so he hid behind his black aviators and crossed the breezeway Ned had made to the inbound bridge.

Every day, Theon saw Ned somewhere. It was Eddard’s idea to borrow the bridge from chaos. Maron had cursed at their work. _“You fucking morons! It’s pointless! You’re all blind, weak, people! Why are you building? Why would you fix anything? It’s a joke! A sick fucking joke!”_

How much time did his Wolves purchase with all that ingenuity, sweat, and blood? When would ruin reclaim their travesty?

 

Theon tried to eat breakfast with Kyra but she was making a point of ignoring him. He picked a carrot off her plate and crunched on it while he stared at her.

She rolled her soft brown eyes.

“What?”

Kyra looked at Sansa who looked at Jeyne who looked at Osha.

“Kyra, what?” Theon threw his hands up and grinned. “What did I do?”

“It’s a little early,” Jeyne warned him.

“For what?”

“Bullshit,” Osha answered.

Oh, this is that thing where all her friends decide to hate him. _“ You_ just fucking got here. Don’t act like you know what’s happened between her and me.”

Osha blinked and looked Theon over. “I've dated men like you.”

Theon smirked. “Lucky you. Congratulations. Fine,” he rubbed Kyra’s back and pulled her close. “Tell me later.”

Sansa smiled patiently at Theon shaking her head. Theon saw something he missed in her expression and glanced at the empty bench where he and Robb would eat. _He’s not gone forever,_ Theon hoped.

 

“Hey, Loren, who’s taking your shift?”

“You?” he asked with his bright white smile.

“Sure. Leave the door open, for me, would you?”

“But, Rodrick-”

“I don’t care what Cassell said. The boy’s chained on a floating island. I think we can trust him with scrambled eggs and peppers.”

Loren laughed and patted Theon's arm. “True. True. Hey, thanks, man.” He shielded his eyes with one hand as he dug in his pockets for the keys. “If you see sunglasses on your next run I’ll trade you a pack of cigarettes.”

Theon nodded. When the corpse in a pink polo with a popped collar came shuffling for him, he only saw his new pair of Ray Ban aviators flying home to his face. He grinned at Loren and brought another pail of food in for the prisoner.

 

“Hey.” The boy stretched on his makeshift bed. “What am I supposed to do about shitting?”

“Oh.” Theon eyed the bucket in the corner nauseously. “Well-”

“You ate an apple with me.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So? Where did you shit?”

Theon laughed. “There’s a part of the bridge you never want to be under.”

“Well?” The boy stood up and showed Theon there was a chain between his wrists. “Are you that scared of me?”

“No!”

The boy smiled kindly. Theon could see him a little better now, with the daylight that fought its way inside the pen. “You have a gun, knife and bow that I can see. I don’t even have my boots on.” He wiggled his toes. “If you aren’t afraid of me, what are you afraid of?”

“ _I’m not._ Relax.” Theon made the executive decision to unlock the chain binding the boy to the wall and take him to the outhouses.

“Dom,” he said once the padlock popped off. Dom bent to give the pail of food back to Theon and walked out the door.

 

Theon leaned against the converted port-o-john watching every passing person he could see with a twisting stomach. He heard the suction sound and gurgling he still liked to think of as a ‘flush’ and stood a little straighter.

“Let’s do it in your room.” When he reemerged it was clear he was much older than Theon had thought at first, probably older than he was.

“Do what?”

“You’re interrogating me, aren’t you? I’d rather talk to you than that Amish guy.”

“Cassell? He’s not Amish.” Theon smirked. “I think he started farming when he came back from ‘Nam.”

“Yeah, I get it. He’s the bad guy your the nice guy, he acts like he’s in charge, you act like you are, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you; let you decide.”

 _That fucking asshole!_ He wants a confession so he can go behind Theon’s back and execute the prisoner, showing everyone that _he’s_ really in charge. Well, fuck that. “Yeah, come on.”

 

Dom stretched out on Robb’s cot. Theon almost asked him not to. “So, where do you want me to start? Dreams and aspirations? Turn on’s and turn off’s?”

Theon sat cross-legged on his own bed. “How did you end up here?”

“I was making a run with my brother and our friends.” His bravado failed him and he looked uneasy. “We were collecting from the people we protect. Zeke was trying to talk his way into some girl's pants… she was upset. I’m not angry that they killed him, honestly. He and my brother, they changed. They weren’t like that before.”

“What happened to your brother?” Theon leaned forward.

Dom shook his head. “I think he got away. I was trapped and your men could have let me die a horrible death. Have you ever seen someone being eaten alive?” His expressive clear gray eyes were lined with dark, long lashes. They contradicted his pronounced brow and square jaw. Dom’s chest slowly rose and fell, remembering.

Theon nodded. “I try not to think about it.” He wasn’t. He couldn’t stop staring. It’s not that Dom was handsome, exactly, he was fascinating.

“He was always… different, my brother. It all started with us just trying to protect ourselves and our allies… it got out of control. The power made him crazy. One night, I went into his room with a gun...” He looked like he was crying, the way people did now; silent and shriveling, only their eyes changes as they lost sight of the present and watched ghosts re-enacting their tragedies. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.” He rubbed his nose and sniffed. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Take off your sunglasses so I can see you. What about your brother? Why did they kill him?”

“He had a bad temper. He attacked too many people, almost killed one, so they brought him here to kill him. He was pretty much raising me so they couldn't just leave me... and... my family were raiders in the gulf, so the idea was, if they ever came back I’d be held up on the bridge with a gun to my head," Theon confessed. "They never came back.”

“And now look at you,” Dom smiled. “Took the whole place for yourself.”

Theon grinned. Then he heard Meera screaming.


	5. Act Like a Man

Theon skidded to a wobbling stop when he found Jojen twitching and convulsing under in the dining tent. He slid his quiver down his shoulder and onto his chest and sheathed his arrow. “Shit.”

“It hasn’t stopped!” Meera shouted at Theon, like she was accusing him. She held her brother’s shoulder, keeping him on his side. He thrashed and tensed his muscles like he was being shocked by some invisible tormentor.

“It’s been five minutes… I think,” Meera said as calmly as she could manage.

“At least three,” Sansa agreed.

Jeyne rubbed Meera’s back and looked at Theon beseechingly.

“I’ll make another run today,” Theon decided.

“They’re getting worse. They don’t stop,” Meera leaned into her friend.

Theon came closer to them and knelt to look Meera in the eye. “I’m _trying_. All the pharmacies were cleaned out or impenetrable.”

“Well, the weed will help.” Theon turned and found Dom behind him. “You’re right,” he continued, putting a hand on Theon’s shoulder. “We should go today. What did we say it was? A three-hour drive from here?”

Cassell came marching over. He hadn't softened with age but dried up and grown meaner.

“Fire. They’re burning coming. It’s fire all. Walking, fire,” Jojen sputtered under Cassell's shadow. 

“Theon, bring me my rifle.”

Theon blinked a few times before slowly replying, “I’m sorry?”

“It’s time to do this now. It should have been done yesterday.” He was staring over Theon’s shoulder at Dom.

The heartbreak tearing through Theon was indistinguishable from anger. “You’re not my- you are not Eddard, and you weren’t left in charge,” he said through gritted teeth. The crowd gathering under the dining tent was only getting larger.

“He wasn’t your father either, boy.”

Theon recoiled and touched his hand to his heart.

“Go on, Theon."

“Wait.” Meera stood and raised her flat palm. “What did he say? Pot will help? What does that mean?”

Dr. Luwin made his way forward through the crowd.

“Yeah,” Theon said in front of the whole camp with confident indignation. “I was questioning Dom and it came up that we keep making these runs to find anticonvulsants. He offered to take me to get marijuana. We haven’t had luck with anything else so far.”

“Cannabinoids were shown to reduce seizures by half in the last clinical trial I read." What a community he’d had once when researchers and practitioners were all connected, worldwide, instantly. Dr. Luwin smiled sadly and shrugged. “It won’t hurt and the boy is in desperate need.”

“I’ll go,” Meera decided.

“I’ll go with them,” Jory promised his uncle.

“Not with _Bolton_ ,” Cassell declared. “That beast is a rapist and a killer. He must be put down. _Now_.”

“It wasn’t me,” Dom said calmly with a slight tilt of his head. “I explained already-”

“She said the man with pale skin and silver eyes.” Cassell appealed to the crowd now, speaking loudly enough so that even Bran climbing on a table to look over shoulders could hear. “Who else could that mean?”

“My brother,” Dom answered calmly. “Ramsay.”

“Ramsay?” Osha stepped forward. “I’ve heard songs about him at different camps.”

“I could play you the one I’ve heard most,” Dom said dryly. He looked a little sad or something like it.

“She said he had shaved hair, a red jacket and pink hat.” Lil’ Walder argued. “Right, Junior?” He looked down at his older cousin who agreed.

“How’d he grow his hair out so fast?” Theon laughed. “Let me give you a win-win situation, Cassel. I’ll go with Dom alone. If he’s not lying, I’ll come back with something to help Jojen. If he is the rabid killer who attacked that poor girl, then you’ll have one less problem to worry about and the bridge will be all yours.”

“Theon…” Jory winced and turned his head, but his uncle didn’t seem to disagree with Theon’s words.

“We’ll get ready and leave immediately.” Theon’s grin lost it’s sarcastic bite when he looked at Meera.

She was always so strong and full of energy, but now she’d shrunk back into her tiny, fragile frame. Her little brother was still disoriented and speaking nonsense.

“Let’s go, Dom,” he said quietly. It was Theon’s job to protect these people whether everyone hated him or not. Maybe someday one of them would give a shit.   

 

“Theon, oh.” Kyra stopped on the ramp to his trailer seeing Dom on Robb’s bed. She leaned on the metal frame and flashed Theon’s guest a weak attempt at a smile. “Hey, can I talk to you?”      

“Not now.”

“Seven Hells!”

“What?” He exploded and spun to face her. “Kyra! I’m under just a little bit of fucking stress! If and when I come back with some pot, I’ll be much less of an asshole, I promise.”

“I didn’t have to come to you.”

“I know.”

“You’re the one that threatened our friend.” She kept pointing at Theon because she was really done with his bullshit this time and this fight was only Kyra explaining that to herself out loud.

“What, Jory? That was a joke!” He grinned and raised his hands innocently.

“Uh huh. You were the one that said you couldn’t commit."

“Alright.” Theon put on his loaded his gun and zipped up his bag. He put his hand in his pocket and ran this thumb across the cool metal.

“You want me when it's good for you and I’m supposed to fuck off when you have something important to do, something that matters.”

“You matter…” He threw his bag over one shoulder. His bow and quiver hung, like always, on the other. He handed Dom a pair of sunglasses he’d almost forgotten about and nodded towards the exit. “Fuck whoever you want to,” he laughed and smiled at Kyra because it was supposed to be an apology.

“Come here.” She fixed his hair so the mess of waves flowed up and away from his eyes. “Be careful.”

Theon grinned.

"Idiot." She was trying not to smile, he knew it.

Dom shoved past him after she bounced down the thunky ramp into the white sunlight. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, if you don’t mind…” Dom offered his cuffed wrists. He wasn’t smiling. Theon wondered if the dark tension in Dom’s expression was what fear looked like on a real man.

“Sure, of course.”

 

Theon waved once the car started. Wex and Jory worked together to lower the ramp. Jeyne and Sansa were ready to shoot any walkers that came up the road.

“Huh,” Dom seemed impressed.

Theon grinned. “It’s pretty good for a shithole, right? So where the hell are we going?”

Dom turned to watch the ramp roll back up behind them. “How’d you find a hybrid this far south?” He turned on the AC and moaned sinking back into his seat. “Oh, that is beautiful. My gods, let’s just keep going.”

“Heh.” Theon tried to laugh. “So… I mean, we never talked about a… pot... farm. Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

Theon stopped the car. “What?”

“I had to say something. He wanted to kill me."

“But, you made it sound like- what’s three hours from here?”

“I think it would be safer for both of us to just go to my camp.”

“What about Jojen? What about the weed?” Theon held his throbbing head.

“It’s pointless. He’s going to die anyway, you know that. It won’t make them like you any better and it won’t save me."

"Great. Fantastic." Theon's moaning was muffled by his hands.

"Don't be a child."

"Now he'll call you a liar and kill you and..." _I'll be all alone again._

"Fine. We can get weed from my brother… if he made it home.”

Theon’s stomach dropped. “Home, huh?”

“Get on I-10 East, Theon.”

“Great. Thank you." He was more confused than before. "So… what does it mean; they _sing songs_ about your brother?”

Dom gave him a bemused sideways glance. “You’ve been sheltered in that cozy bubble for awhile I suppose. People make up songs to remember stories. There’s also graffiti, some signs, but it's hard to find clean paper to make pamphlets, and newspapers are pretty rare.”

Theon laughed Dom seemed to grow a little brighter. “What do the songs say?”

He tilted his head thoughtfully and studied Theon while his thick fingers danced lazily in the steady blast of cool air. “Nothing good. I have yet to hear a hero’s ballad.”

“Did you say you play something?”

“What?”

Theon swerved around a walker. He hated their uneven gate. The way entropy made them contort. It must have been weeks since he saw one up close. The first wave of infected corpses was rotting away. Herds were pretty rare but that last one was an ocean of dead. “You said that you could play one of his songs for us.”

“Hmm.” He smirked and looked out the window. “I used to play the violin. It was the only… emotion I thought I had.” He frowned at his reflection and ran a pale hand through his long hair. “Violins… horsehair bows, what a fairy tale we told ourselves. My father’s house was so sterile, so symmetrical and cold. I don’t think I’ll ever see anything that clean again.”

Theon’s house was never clean but he understood.

Humans had made things so lovely for themselves. In spite of the types of problems that never go away, it seemed like paradise whenever he looked back. It took thousands of years for humans to make clean, warm, soft, safe places for themselves. Generation after generation, people lived and died to make a world of beautiful things, interesting things, things just for pleasure, things just to care for those who needed it. Now they were merely struggling against death in its various forms once again, like the other animals.

“It seems to be you, a few old men and young boys and a bridge full of women. How did that happen?”

“Huh. Well, the Starks were always pretty traditional-”

“Who the fuck are the Starks?”

That was oddly nice to hear. “They built the bridge, basically. They preferred to send strong men into danger.”

“And now the strong men are all gone?”

Theon frowned. _“I’m_ still here. Jon and Robb will come back and Eddard… maybe. There was an outbreak of dysentery at the last camp we visited. Several men died with shitting themselves after surviving everything else.”

“Well, what do you do to pass the time?”

Theon shrugged and laughed. “Anyone that wants me.”

“Hmm.” Dom pulled the door handle back with one finger and let it go. “So Kyra’s free?”

“Uh… no.”

“Really?” Dom rolled his head over and raised an eyebrow at Theon. He let the handle smack into the door again. “Guess I misunderstood.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Theon was glad Kyra slept with her door locked and her gun under her pillow, like they all did, just in case.

 

“Here. Pull over.”

“Here? Already?” They’d only pulled off the feeder a few minutes ago. “I thought you said it was hours away.” The road was oddly cleared of cars and debris. Theon pulled onto the shoulder.

“Good. Now, give me your knife.”

Theon snorted and gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to rip you to shreds.”

“Well, in that case, no. I’d rather not.”

Dom pierced Theon with an affectionate hunger and leaned closer. “Give me the knife, Theon.”

Theon found it hilarious. If this was the psycho killer, his death would be epic in its sheer stupidity. He cut the engine. “ _Why_?”

“Because you want to know that I won’t kill you.”

Theon smirked. “I’m not _dying_ to know.”

Dom’s bright gray eyes danced as he extended his open hand. “Go on. You want to.”

Below his stomach Theon warmed and twisted sharply. He felt like he’d been caught, like those dancing diamond eyes found things he’d worked so hard to bury. Maybe he had to pretend it didn’t matter, or maybe he more curious than he was desperate to live, but he slid the knife out and offered Dom the butt of the leather handle.

Dom leaned closer and touched Theon’s face with the tips of two gliding fingers. "Here."

“Wait,” Theon choked, “I’m not-”

“Don’t lie.” Dom took the knife and turned the hand offering it. “Little prick.”

“What? Ow!” Theon sucked air through his clenched teeth and whined.

“I warned you.”

A fat, thick bubble of blood grew on his pinky finger. “Why-”

Dom took pinched it and brought it up to his face. He marked Theon with his own blood behind his eye and just above his cheekbone. “In case they find you. Now you look like,” Dom patted his leg, “you belong here. No one will hurt you, but keep you gun ready and fire it twice if you need me. I shouldn’t be long.” Dom sat up and leaned over Theon with a funny smile then pulled the car keys from the ignition.

“Hey,” Theon protested.

“Why waste the gas? Keep the doors locked.” Suddenly, he disappeared into the trees.

This place smelled like barbecue and death. Theon sighed and pulled down the visor to look at himself through the small vanity mirror. An X, like the bodies and the walkers. What did it mean?

What did the songs say?

There was a gorgeous sprawling sycamore tree towering the field ahead of him. He could imagine Bran climbing it, one broad winding moss-covered branch at a time.Sansa would know it’s name and something useful about it.

Theon let his seat fall back so he could stretch out and groped around the backseat for his flask.

 

He woke up to knocking. As soon as his eyes popped open, he pulled his .45 and aimed it at the window. “Oh, shit!”

Dom grinned and dangled two bags back and forth. “Let me in, Theon.”

“Oh, god!” He laughed and unlocked the doors. Dom hopped in the passenger side. “Is it real? Let me smell it.” It was so pungent he didn’t even have to stick his nose in the paper bag. “What’s in the other bag?”

“A little stock, see?”

“It’s a plant!” Theon screamed. _I’m going to be a fucking hero!_ “FUCK!”

Dom laughed.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Theon shoved himself over to hug Dom, but he was misunderstood.


	6. Show Me Where it Hurts

Bright, hypnotic, inhuman gray.

His jaw was clenched in Dom’s quick hand. A hot mouth pressed into his and Theon fell back onto his flattened seat.

Dom climbed over top of him. A knee pinched the outside of both thighs.

“Stah-” Dom caught his tongue in a firm bite before he could finish. He tried to pull back, but Dom slowly bit harder; a warning. Theon’s wrists were caught and pinned above his head by under one of Dom’s heavy hands. The other slithered under Theon’s shirt.

He whined. Dom growled, and from the way he exhaled, Theon knew he was grinning. Every other heartbeat his cock pushed more eagerly against the denim barrier to Dom’s hot pressure so Theon twisted his hips away. “EH!” he protested.

Dom laughed into his mouth and won a high pitched whimper by twisting Theon’s nipple.

Kicking against the dashboard, Theon stomped on the impotent gas pedal.

Dom pulled back to run his flat wet tongue up Theon’s cheek.

“What the fuck?” Theon exploded. He panted and tried to mask his panic with anger.

Dom’s head dipped slightly. “You like it. See?” He gripped the bulge on Theon’s thigh.

“God!” Theon smacked his hand away. “That-”

“It’s fine.” Dom rolled off of him into the passenger's seat. He stared ahead at the twisted sycamore branches grasping for sunlight. “Almost dark.” The pale boy grew even whiter, touching his stomach.

After slowly straightening himself, Theon pulled the lever on the side of his seat to make the back spring up and bump into him. “Yeah.” He tried to catch his breath and felt for the cool metal in his jacket pocket. He ran his thumb over the North Star. “Sorry.”

Dom peered over, curling slightly in his seat. “Sorry?” He smirked.

 “I mean… oh shit! A herd!” He had never been so fucking happy to see shuffling corpses on the horizon. Theon started the quiet car. It's tires squealed against the pavement and they took off.

Dom nodded against the window pane. “There goes the Iron Mountain.”

“Wait, Iron Mountain? The sanctuary? That- that’s your home?!” Trains sat far beyond the trees, but Theon hadn’t put it together.

“It’s not my home.”

“But it’s true? Is it real? That’s why you’re so fucking fit?”

“Don’t slow down, you dumbshit! Listen!” A motor was clearing getting louder. “That liar! Hope the bastard dies last after watching all his friends do the same.”

“What?” Theon checked his mirrors and windows until he saw a dirt bike coming through the field. Several four wheelers followed behind it. “Who is it?”

“My fucking brother,” Dom growled, clutching his abdomen. “Stupid-”

“Well, what do we do? This goddamned hybrid can’t beat a bike!”

Dom assessed Theon with an impervious glance. “He’s on a cheetah, you’re in a racehorse.”

Theon shook his head. “What does _that_ mean?”

“Just keep accelerating and, eventually he’ll get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. Theon, stop watching him, it’s slowly you down.”

“What do they want?”

The stranger roared out of the field and landed with a bounce, skidding onto the road. He zipped out of the rearview mirror.

Theon turned around to look over his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Two red straps ran across his chest to make an X. He had a shaved head and wore a thick red leather jacket. The stranger roared up to Theon’s window and tapped it with the end of his gun. “Pull over,” he shouted coldly, staring into Theon.

“What do I-”

Dom took the wheel and rammed the car into his brother. The man with Dom’s winter eyes disappeared from Theon’s window and bounced, rolling, in the rearview mirror. His tires kept spinning in a cloud of dust.

“Oh… oh man. I think we killed him.”

“ _We_?” Dom smiled and the quads behind them shrank away.

 

By the time they got back on the I-10 feeder, they both knew Dom was ill. He curled against the passenger door, holding his stomach.

“Maybe he’s not even dead.”

Dom snorted. “What do you care?”

“I had to," he said firmly. "Shit, what’s wrong with you?”

“Of course, you had to. He was pointing a gun at you.”

“Yeah.”

“Pull over. Fucking pull over!”

 

Dom ran into a ditch groaning. Theon rubbed his mouth and grabbed the crunchy paper bag with the weed in it. The strong odor promised him he’d be a hero. He did well. They’d all _have_ to respect him now.

He rolled Dom’s window down. “You ok?”

“NO, I’m not fucking OK!”

“Well…”

“Why would I be in a ditch if I was OK?”

 _True enough._ “Well, what do you need?”

“Throw me your jacket!”

The door clunked shut and gravel crunched under Theon’s boots. He slipped his arms out of his jacket and tossed it in the ditch. “We should go, Dom.” He kept looking down the road and listening for groans or twigs snapping.

“Oh, should we? I’m in the middle of a lap dance I hate to get up with these huge tits in my face.”

Theon rolled his eyes and sat on the car's warm hood. 

 

When Dom emerged, at last, he stumbled up into crawling.

“Fuck me.” Theon dropped his cigarette and rubbed it out. “Hey.” He hurried to Dom’s side and helped to pull him up. “Aw, man. You look like shit.”

Dom grumbled and let Theon help him back to the car.

 

“Hey, where’s my jacket?”

Dom shut his door and moaned. “Forget it.”

“What do you mean? _Forget it?_   Where is it?”

Leather creaked as Dom pushed into his chair, groaning.

“My god… did you fucking really _shit_ on my jacket?”

Dom snorted and didn't bother to hide his smile. “I didn’t think you’d take it so personally. I didn’t exactly have a bidet to wash my ass, Theon. Don’t we need to go? Remember?”

Theon threw his hands up and sputtered with outrage. “WHY my JACKET? We have napkins in here! My compass is in that jacket! I could have taken it out if you-”

“I thought it was obvious.”

Theon opened his door and jumped out.

“I wouldn’t,” Dom called but Theon marched to the ditch anyhow then cried out and cursed loud enough for every walker within a mile to hear.

 

“I hate when you’re mad at me.”

Theon swerved around yet another goddamned motherfucking walker. “I don’t care if you’re sorry. And don’t talk to me like that!”

“Like what?”

Theon waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m so sorry my death has put a dent in your wardrobe,” Dom remarked dryly.

“You’re not dying. Don’t say that.”

“What does it matter?”

Theon smirked. “So, what is the Iron Mountain? I heard it was a self-contained biodome the government made-”

“No. It’s a lie. Remember that if I die, and never go there without me.”

Theon turned his incredulous face to study and assess Dom's expression, but something else seized his attention. “Holy god, look at that herd,” he whispered. An army of cadavers was making a discordant march down the car littered highway beside them. “What’s happening? I thought they were all rotting away.” He slowed down to look closer.

“Don’t stop.”

“They’re new.” Theon stopped the car and put it in park. He opened his door slowly.

 _“Theon,”_ Dom hissed.

He slowly rose into the humid air. The smell couldn’t be described accurately as ‘stomach turning’ because the impact was staggering the very instant it hit his nose and elicited immediate and complete rejection from mind soul and body. It was the kind of odor that made you lose sense of what a stomach even was. Theon dropped back into the car coughing and gagging. “Oh no.”

“Why did you-” Dom grunted as another excruciating cramp made him curl against the door.

“ _No, no, no._ ” His eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t die," he said softly. "Don’t leave me.” Theon opened his eyes and rubbed his nose, sniffing, then put the car in drive.

 

Meera was the first person to run up to them, but others came soon after. Theon handed her the bags and she hugged him and someone cried and there was cheers and laughter around him that he couldn't feel.

So Theon grinned.

 

“Sansa?” He waved to her and pulled her aside. “I…”

“What is it?” She frowned and touched his hand.

Theon swallowed but stood tall, like a man.

“Theon? What happened?”

“I saw him.”

“Who?”

“Your father. He... didn’t make it.”

Sansa closed her eyes and covered her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

She squeezed his hand and held it a moment, then spun and called for Jeyne.

He watched her collapse into her best friend’s arms. “ _I’m sorry_.”

 

Jory patted his shoulder and squeezed him saying something nice Theon couldn’t process.

“Thanks, man. Hey, Dom is sick. Could you help me with him?”


	7. A Joke

“We have no food or medicine to give. Leave and never come back.” Weary eyes peered down from the battlements.

“You have shelter.” Domeric’s rich voice carried so well and far, the world was his theater. “We have food and medicine but lack a safe place to sleep tonight. Surely, we can be of assistance to one another.”

“No.” She rubbed her handsome face with a dry hand. “We cannot.”

“That large grave we passed has been kept nicely,” Ramsay whispered.

“And the one beside it, what’s your point?” Domeric muttered.

“Her husband and grown child, I'd bet. She’s afraid because _she’s alone._ ”

Domeric raised his hands and came closer to the wall of angled logs, carved and thrusting out like spears. “What if I came in and spoke to you? You could have me searched for weapons.” Heavy clouds dimmed the sun behind his striking frame. “I could play you a song.”

The woman made a show of cocking her rifle. “Keep moving on down the road.”

Ramsay tilted his head. The corner of his small supple mouth curled up with some amusement. “You could shoot us. What’s that, two bullets if you’re good? But your hand is shaking and there are are two white dents in the bridge of your nose where glasses used to be.”

The barrels slowly lowered, though the exhausted woman didn’t seem to notice.

“Surprised?” Ramsay grinned brightly. “ _My_ vision is very good. But we can all see your colonial fort is nearly empty. Men go out for the food and medicine, and over the years, less and less come back until no one’s left but women, and children, the elderly or disabled. A Strong woman like you probably wouldn’t send children on runs, and when you go out... pretty women face so many dangers. I’ve heard the stories-”

“I’ve heard stories about you.”

“Me?” Ramsay fluttered his dark lashes and touched his white hand to his chest. “Who’s ever heard of me?”

“You’re not the first nor last boys to come begging at my walls, bastard. You’ll find no slaves here so move along.”

Domeric placid expression soured. “We don’t take the weak as slaves.”

“What good would that do?” Ramsay laughed. “Fine. Don’t give us your wooden fort or let us in to see it. We’ll just have to burn it to the ground.” Ramsay whistled.

“Don’t.” Domeric spun hearing the high pitched buzzing cries and sputtering thunderclaps of Ramsay’s gang riding through the hilly forest. “I can talk to her.”

“I did!” Ramsay shouted back over the engines and patted Dom’s shoulder.

 

"Why would you raze it?" Her voice was bitter yet unwavering. "What good does rubble do you? That would only waste your precious gasoline."

"True. We can't use ruins for much, but an enemy can't grow stronger and multiply in ruins and decorating a massacre sends a powerful message, better than any song ever written."

Donna watched from the dwindling safety of her wall as torch wielding boys made an arch around the bastard and his pretty brother. Silhouettes of an army appeared against the forest line.

Ramsay raised his hand to halt them. “Well?”

The great timber gate groaned as it slowly rolled out. Then the roundest man Ramsay had seen for years came to meet his brother, one labored step at a time. He mopped his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. His face was wrinkled and sunken. Loose skin flopped around his arms and legs as struggled bravely.

“No food, huh?”

Domeric shot Ramsay a cold look before going in. Several women groaned and grunted sliding the wooden slab back into place to barricade the door.

 

“That one could feed us for _days_.” Yellow Dick leaned forward against his handles and swung his torch around in lazy circles.

“How do I look?” Damon tried to wipe his face clean with his thin cotton shirt. He felt his long golden braid for dirt, twigs, or bugs. They’d been out pillaging for weeks now.

“Gorgeous, you cunt. Let me shave your head next time. Skinner has no fucking finesse.”

“Fuck. Is it all patchy and shit.”

“Uh, yeah, dipshit and he cut your open like,” Ramsay counted, “five times! Shit. Look at this.” Ramsay pulled his long black hair up into a knot on top of his head then stole Lil’ Walder’s hat off his square head to cover it. “Admire this shit, cocksucker.”

Damon smile was deceptively angelic, even by torchlight. “It’s perfect.”

“Of course, it is!”

“I should have gone with him,” Luton fretted on the back of Alyn’s quad.

Sour Alyn only shook his head grimly.

Ramsay tapped his finger against his forearm and smiled bitterly. “He’ll be fine. He always is, and if he isn’t we’ll blow their fucking house down.”

Dick giggled and thrust against his seat in anticipation.

 

“They’re letting us in. I told them about the Amish and they agreed to take them in. It’s a win/win/win.”

Ramsay gave a serious nod. “How many?”

“I only saw sixteen.”

Ramsay looked over his shoulder and waved his boys ahead. “Take any women for yourselves and children for my father. Kill the rest.”

“ _Why_?”

“More mouths to feed. More discontent. More people to protest and encourage runaways. They’re all dying anyhow. Maybe they fertilized their own shitty garden. Ha! Get it?”

Dom shook his head as the boys roared in past through the open gate “But-” The screaming started. Just like last time. Just like the next time. 

“There are two reasons that fat fuck and his old bitch could possibly look that dehydrated and they’re not in a desert. Fuck, Dom, can’t you smell it?  We’ll save the ones who have a chance and kill the ones who are dying. Now we get to keep those Amish cousinfuckers nice and safe so they can keep making us candles, and weapons, and cheese, and those shirts you like so fucking much,” he remarked dryly and waved his slaves forward.

“BRING THEM DOWN,” Skinner shouted.

“Look at them marching in their little pilgrim outfits. They’ll love this place.” Ramsay slid an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Show me around inside. Won’t father be so happy?"

But Domeric wasn’t happy. He bore his grief with the beauty and repose of an oil painted saint, rolling his eyes up to plead with the gods, parting his soft lips to sigh.

 

“Hey, Hodor,” Theon said from too far away, “have any new jokes for me?”

“Well…” Hodor drawled out, “ok. Knock… knock.”

“Come in, the door's open!”

“... oh, Theon! That is ridiculous!” The huge man laughed.

“Like it?” Theon sounded closer now and his voice echoed against metal walls. “You can use that one, man. It’s yours.”

“Al-ok, Theon. You just-you stay outta trouble now.”

Theon giggled.

 

Dom growled, sweating in Robb’s bed.

“Hey, are you with me?” Theon knelt by his side.

“Wa-”

“Water?” Theon brought a cup to his mouth. “Here. Easy. Here you go,” he said softly.

“How long?” Dom rasped.

“Three days.”

Dom shook his head. “Since I ran to the …”

“Outhouse? At least twelve hours, I think longer.”

Dom nodded.

“I have to make a run today. Are you ready to eat now, or do you want to wait?” Theon mopped Dom’s pronounced brow.

“Don’t leave.”

The cool, damp cloth came to a stop. “Me?”

Dom nodded.

“I’ll have someone take care of you. Paella was an RN.

“You,” Dom insisted clenching his jaw.

Theon glanced around and leaned in closer. “You really want _me_?”

Dom smiled wearily and let his head sink into Robb’s pillow.

“I’ll get you some food.”

 

“Theon!”

“Hey, Bran. Did you see those fucking carp I caught? Monsters!”

Bran started to climb down their only apple tree. The great barrel holding it wobbled slightly until he landed. “When are we leaving to find Robb?” Bran demanded. He wore his father's rifle around his shoulder all the time now. Ever since Sansa told him...

“We? I will go with Dom as soon as he’s better. We’re two the strongest people here. Besides, you know Robb would never want you out there-”

“I’m not a child and he is _my_ brother." Bran didn't approach. "Don’t you even care?”

Bran was pleading with him, yet it cut through Theon like a searing indictment. He could never wash the Greyjoy golden brown off his skin, nor deaden his expressive face by adopting the Stark's grim patience. He could never smother his heart's hunger with the cold stubborn passion they buried so deep inside, only their own kind ever saw a glimpse of it.

He left the little Stark to get his friend some food. Now that he was conscious again, maybe they could talk.


	8. A Fix

 

Blankets were rolling smoothly across one another when he woke. Whining creaks echoed against the thin metal walls. He was drenched in sweat and unbearably weak.

“What was that?” someone whispered.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Theon rasped back. “Keep going.” Theon inhaled deeply then sighed. The sloppy, wet sucking and slurping sounds couldn’t be ignored or mistaken for anything else. They stopped suddenly with a pop.

“Did you hear that?” Loren stopped and sat up.

“It’s fine!" Theon coaxed. " _Come on._  You're so fucking good.”

“Is he _in here_?”

“...”

“He fucking growled!” Loren stepped up off the cot and pulled his pants up.

“It’s only the fever. Just be quiet- don’t go. I mean... well, I know it's weird but he's out and we couldn't go to your place so...” Theon hurried to roll off the bed and hopped after Loren as he pulled his jeans up. “Wait, wait! We can go to my car,” he called as the door opened.

“No thanks.” The moon didn’t care to illuminate the scuffle in on the ramp, but it was easy enough to imagine. “Stop it. I said no!”

Everything was still until Theon huffed and relented. The ramp bounced as Loren thumped down it. After shutting the door Theon stomped back into his desolate cave. He fell onto his little cot as if he'd been knocked out. It was too hot to sleep and he was too miserable to finish himself off. He rolled onto his side to kick the metal wall and sniffed.

“What’s wrong?”

Theon cried out and jumped, smacking against a wall of hard flesh. “God! You _are_ awake? Fuck. I’m sorry, man. Go back to bed.”

“Why are you crying?” Dom’s voice was warm on his neck.

“I’m not! Fucking-” Theon sputtered and crawled back so he could sit up. “Hey, listen, I brought you food but you’d passed out again. It’s in a pail under Robb’s- uh, cot.”

“Robb isn't coming back.” He pressed his barrel chest against Theon’s pushing him down.

 _“Stop._ "

“And you’re not going to look for him tomorrow.”

“How did you-” Theon gritted his teeth and tried to shove the wide shoulders his hands found in the dark away from him. “ _Get off of me_ ,” Theon hissed. His wrists were caught and pinned over his head.

“Who was that with you? My old guard, right? Loren with the red hair?” Bolton ran his lips down Theon’s slender neck. “He’s pretty. Is that what you like, huh? Little slutty twinks like you?”

“WHAT,” felt like a stifled scream he’d forced into a word just as it exited his dry mouth. “I am not... any of that!”

“You’re so squirmy.” Bolton’s voice was so low and close now. His sharp smile penetrating stare came through in every syllable.

“Yeah, that’s what like. _Pretty_ people. _Not you_.”

“What am I?”

A wrist was suddenly free of the weight bearing down upon it. Theon cried out when the warm, thick fingers slid under his waistband. “Oh god, I made a mistake.”

Bolton hummed, “Uh huh,” against his fragile neck and took a lovely piece between his teeth. He sucked at the flesh, wanting it all, and snorted at how hard Theon was already.

Theon moaned and tried to find anything to look at in the solid black smothering him; any kind of exit, anything to get his brain working, to keep from dissolving. He blinked and swallowed. "Your head _was_ shaven.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I saw the stubble when I pulled your hair back that night you kept vomiting. You just-” Theon’s jaw forced itself open as he inhaled sharply. The rough hand moved so quickly and fluidly, massaging his blood and thoughts down away from his brain. “You hid it? Under a hat? Was that Dom… that I hit?”

Ramsay pulled back to kiss Theon’s running mouth.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“But,” Theon found his hand running up Ramsay’s chest. “Did you really… you have to leave.”

“I know.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I will.” Ramsay caressed Theon’s face. “What are you sad about?”

“I’m not,” Theon said softly.

Ramsay froze. He wanted to see Theon’s face, but his voice said enough. He grabbed Theon’s shoulders and tore him off the cot, shoving him down to his knees. Theon groaned in half-hearted protest. “Where are you?” Ramsay felt how his heart was pounding when he grabbed his pulsing cock and pulled it out.

“I don’t… I can’t.”

Ramsay’s thumb found the inside of Theon’s cheek. “Fuck. Come on.” The head of his dick found Theon’s always-smiling lips. “Open.”

“I don’t… do...” Theon said weakly even as his slender hands ran up the outside of Ramsay’s thighs.

Ramsay grabbed a fistful of wavy hair and smacked his stubborn mouth. “What? Are you afraid someone will see you? I can’t even see you. Stick your tongue out and _open_.”

Theon groan prostrated itself before Ramsay as a beautiful sigh. He was hungry and needy. Ramsay felt how he ached with the force of his frantic, swirling tongue and the desperate way he sucked every time he pulled his head back. He hummed and whimpered around Ramsay’s cock until he pulled out and yanked Theon’s head back. “Say my name.”

Theon looked up at the black outline he thought maybe he could see, then it would dance or change shapes. It looked like a lot of different faces and nothing at all. “Ramsay.”

His thumb found Theon’s swollen bottom lip. He took Theon’s jaw and pulled him closer. “Keep your tongue out.” His head found it. “Ah, shit.” Theon exhaled through his hot mouth as Ramsay pumped himself to finishing on Theon’s tongue. “Good boy. Why don't you find your flask to wash that down? Relax. You don't even have to close your eyes."

When Theon woke up there was no sign that any of that had really happened. He sat up slowly and cupped his hand in front of his mouth, huffing into his palm. Smelled like rum and cigarettes. He rubbed his face and rolled off his cot. Bolton’s chest rose and fell slowly. The slight ridge of his brow was collecting sweat. The supple lips of his pinched mouth were parted by his slack jaw. He looked pale and helpless. It must have been a dream. Theon inhaled deeply and kicked Robb’s cot.

Bolton’s arctic eyes blinked open.  

“You have to leave today. I’m sorry. I’ll get you some provisions.” He did sound very sorry. Theon pulled his boots on and grabbed his aviators before running out into the rising sun.

 

“Yes, today. I’m getting provisions, Bran,” Theon answered before he could ask.

Bran filled his bowl with eggs. “Do you have any idea where he went?”

Theon nodded. “Your dad went to an island in the Gulf with his best friend… at least, they used to work together. Robb will be heading there. The houses there are all up on stilts because it floods so often. That man, Robert, said they hacked the wooden stairs and used rope ladders. They use their boats to get around, just like we do. I always wanted to see it. Maybe we will. Still, your father never came back and your  mother didn’t trust Robert. I can’t take you, Bran.” The shade of the mess tent provided no relief from the swampy heat but sometimes a breeze would come off the river.

Osha watched Theon fill this cup. “¿Tiene un padre con un ojo azul y un ojo negro?”

“No recuerdo su padre, pero es muerto,” Meera said shrugging.

Theon turned slowly. “Where did you see him?”

“What?” Osha feigned ignorance.

“The man with the mismatched eyes. He looked like me? Was he on a boat?”

Osha regarded Theon with the usual blank expression she offered him. “A great ship he used for raiding. It was near Galveston. He overtook us. I made it onto one of the li-”

“I’m leaving today to look for the man who saved your life. Would you like to come? You can bring your sword.”

Osha leaned against the rough picnic table and frowned, thinking about it.

“I’ll go too,” Meera offered. “It would help to solidify your place here if you'd like to come.” She and Osha stared into each other's eyes, silently communicating something with their subtle looks or women's magic.

“Great.” Theon left with his food as though it had been decided.

 

“We have to go.” Theon banged around his trailer stuffing his backpack.

“Today? Go where? I can hardly stand.”

“Now.” Theon kept looking over his shoulder at the open door. “I thought they were all dead. That fucking Scavenger saw my uncle. If he comes inland…” Theon froze.

“What? Theon? If he comes up the river, you mean? Then  _what_?"

Theon looked the strange boy over. A dozen questions and answers hung in his numb mouth. He decided to tell a quick story as he packed their bags.

He was a child when Maron brought him here, though he couldn’t say how young exactly. Nobody liked them, or rather, Maron saw to it that no one liked him and Theon was viewed as his mute appendage.

A stormy night brought fast winds from the Gulf that helped propel his father up the Mississippi. The Greyjoys sent their grappling hooks flying like tentacles slithering up from the river to take the bridge. Maron jumped up on the railing waving his arms shouting at their father to stop throwing his Molotov cocktails. “It’s me! Theon’s here!”

They should have run.

Maybe Maron thought it was safer for Theon. Maybe he wanted to protect the bridge as he had with his crossbow many times before. Maybe he just wanted to see their father. Or maybe his pride wouldn't let him run and he trusted Ned Stark to be a weak and docile man who’s stoney exterior was all for show. Greyjoy men had no talent for, nor much interest, in reading people. Probably, Maron wasn’t thinking at all and had no idea of the choice he’d made.

Ned told Balon to leave or watch his boy die. He had to, it was his duty. Ned had his own family and friends to protect. One had died already, professor something… a child was dying though no one knew it yet. They wouldn't until his mother found his burnt body. It was Mr. Stark's right to shoot Maron, really. Balon didn’t stop until he did. Theon could still hear that splash and thrashing of the gators who had come to learn that yelling meant bodies were coming.

Maron never came back. Not ever again.

Then it was Theon watching lightning illuminate vast black clouds on the horizon as he stood, trembling on the guard rail. He couldn’t hear the distant thunder or anything at all but that splash over and over. Ned’s hand still felt fatherly on his small shoulder, even with the cold barrel pressing into his temple.

“I have to leave now. If I can’t come back with Robb, then I can’t come back at all. You have to leave too. We’re not wanted here.”

 

Wex helped Theon take the stout boy to his car.

“We'll take her truck,” Osha said firmly.

“Good idea,” Theon agreed, slamming the door to hide the Bolton boy. He grinned and waved. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not going with him,” Wex said softly. “If he’s well enough to travel, then he should be tried, Theon.”

“Please, Wex… look, he saved my life. I’m taking him home, alright? Then I’ll find Robb or fuck off for good. Neither of us are going to hurt anyone here.”

Wex rolled his head back in exasperation. “Don’t take him home, Theon. That’s a shit idea.”

Loren jogged over as Meera and Osha pulled up. “Weren’t you going to say goodbye? What the fuck? What about Kyra? Or Jory?”

“I’ll be back, man!” Theon grinned.

“They do care,” Wex mumbled.

“Sure, sure.” Theon slid across his hood.

“What about Sansa?”

Theon remembered when Ned let him push this little junker onto the bridge. He worked on it with Jory for months. As soon as it started, he climbed up onto the roof and waved his hands over his head yelling, “Sansa! Look! Over here! Look what I did!” She rolled her eyes and he smiled.

“I don’t want to make anyone cry, Loren. Hey, um… I’ll get us more rum, ok?” Theon waved then sighed as soon they drove off the bridge. “Alright, chief, where am I taking you?”

“Take I-10 to 59 North.”

“Back to the Iron Mountain?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, you’re with me.”

“Well…” Theon ran his tongue behind his lip. “I thought… didn’t your brother try to poison you?”

Bolton sucked air through his teeth and winced. “Shit. Yeah, I totally thought he did. My bad. Most people don’t survive a poison that causes fever, even though I’m not most people. I know what it was now. I’ve seen it before.” He shrugged. “Oops.”

“But we _killed_ him!” Theon exclaimed. He looked in the rearview mirror as if to make sure Osha and Meera didn’t somehow hear him.

“I doubt that. They’re my boys anyway, not Dom's.”

“Oh my god,” Theon cried. “Oh god. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“That’s what you said last night.”

“That didn’t- no, no, no.” Theon covered his ears. "I told you shut the fuck up! I'm trying to think!"

Ramsay looked through his side view mirror. "You know it's only a matter of time before the one with the sword tells them all about your terrible uncle. You tried to kill her. You hurt her friends' feelings, if you're the one she has to throw under the bus so she can gain the Wolf pack's trust, seems like an ideal outcome for her, doesn't it? You know who would love to listen to her story with all the sympathy in the world? That old man that wants us both dead." He rubbed Theon's back and spoke sympathetically as if applying a balm after some much-needed tough love. "You thought scoring some pot would make them love you? Now finding your boyfriend will make them love you? How many fucking tricks have you done for them still expecting to get a nice treat and a pat on the head? Grow up, Theon. You should kill those girls and come home with me.” 

Theon pulled over and stopped the car. Meera’s truck stopped behind him. “Shut up! I have to think! Fine… you’re Ramsay. You’re fucking crazy.”

Ramsay threw his hands up and snorted. “Me? Come on, like that isn't why you invited her."

“It’s fine,” Theon told himself out loud. “I can still take you home. I can still find Robb and bring him back. Then I won’t be alone and he won’t let them kill me.”

“Are you fucking drunk already? The sun's barely up.” Ramsay rolled down his window and smiled at Meera. “He’s alright. Things caught up to him.” He spun his finger as if to elaborate. “You know.”

“What if I can’t find Robb?” Theon found himself hanging from his steering wheel. After much effort, he turned his head enough to look up at Ramsay. “What did you say about the girls?”

Ramsay smiled. “Someone’s in your trunk.”

Meera raised an eyebrow and crept to the back of the car. “He’s right.”

“Fucking kill me already before Cassell gets to.”

Ramsay patted his back and laughed. "Never."


	9. A Lie

Ramsay leaned over to release the trunk and rolled up and out of the car. “It’s some kid,” he said without much feeling.

Theon looked up and froze before exploding out of his car. “BRAN! God damn you!” He came around the car to see his fear confirmed. “What the shit, Brandon!”

Shielding his eyes from the sudden onslaught of sunlight, Bran climbed out and stumbled away from the trunk. “I had to be sure…”

Theon raised his hand and trembled under the effort to lower it again. “You… my _job_ is to protect you. How could you do this to me?”

Ramsay brushed past Osha as she came to put a protective arm around Bran.

“I want to find my brother.”

“So do I!”

As they fought, Ramsay slipped into Osha’s open driver’s side and bent, reaching under the steering wheel to pop open the small door to her fuse box.

“We can take him back,” Meera offered as she pulled her hair back to get if off of her neck.

“No,” Bran insisted quietly. “It should be me that tells him.”

Theon closed his eyes and sat in his open trunk. “I can tell him, Bran,” he said through his palms.

“But I’m his brother. It will kill him. He was our father, Theon. I have to be there to tell Robb.”

It would be so much easier if Bran was screaming like a little asshole or crying like a confused child, but no. He talked simply and firmly with compassion, just like his father. The Starks were all their parents' children and here was Theon to hit the scared boy just like Balon would have. He had to laugh.

Osha pulled Bran back. “What are you doing with _him?”_

“I was going to take him home. He can’t stay on the bridge.”

“He’s supposed to be tried,” Meera reminded him. Why did they all have to sound so god damned reasonable? “What will Cassell say when he finds out?”

“I was going to say he escaped. It won’t matter when I bring Robb home. And without Robb, it’s not my home at all. Is it,” he asked Osha flatly. “How many people did you tell?”

“Tell what?” _That mask of a face._ What the hell did she think he was so guilty of? How had she earned the right to judge him? He was trying to help _everyone_! That’s all he ever did!

Osha met Theon' stare. “We should all go back, together.”

Ramsay snorted and rolled his eyes. “Really? You all have a car, take it back to your bridge, but he and I won’t be going. We could just kill ourselves right here if that’s what we wanted.”

“We? Theon,” Meera groaned, “you didn’t." She took Theon’s hand. “Remember when you were _convinced_ that I loved you? Sex doesn’t make people like you, Theon.”

Osha released Bran’s shoulder and drew her sword from the sheath so at home on her back. “If he goes free,” her blade pointed to Ramsay, “he will come back to the bridge and he’ll bring others with him.“

“That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard in weeks.” Ramsay raised Theon’s .45 with his right hand and steadied that with is left. He aimed it right between Meera’s eyes. Theon slammed against him without thinking or planning, it just happened. Osha and Meera yelled something monosyllabic as Theon was swung around and slammed into his car.

The truck seemed to start and then clicked. Then the engine cranked but it had started for the last time. Theon tried to pull Ramsay down and sweep his ankle while wrestling for his damn handgun. A large calloused hand grabbed the outline of Theon’s face then his vision went black and he was somewhat aware of yet detached from a terrible pain in the back of his head. He thought he heard his body throwing up, but it was hard to say.

When Theon was a little boy in the world that ended he used to go diving with his brother in waters that changed from crystal clear to turquoise, or cyan, or sky blue, or brown, depending on the oceans mood. They ran down sand like powdered sugar onto a wobbly sunbleached dock and leapt into the water one moonless night. Theon kept climbing against the water, working his way down but when he finally reached the bottom and tried to spin to launch himself back up into all the air his lungs could ever stand, he’d lost any sense of direction. Theon’s toes found no sand and his eyes no surface to break through.

A little after he was sure he would die like this; alone in the dark for no real reason, his hand broke into the warm, dry miraculous air.

It felt like drowning when Theon woke up again. Rolling on rough, pilly carpet in a black fog, he found his hands tied behind his back with thin cotton. His ankles were tied together in a similar way. Theon didn’t have to tell himself not to panic. This almost felt more normal. There was a sick relief; the high-strung tension had broken at last and at least it wasn’t by a bullet through his temple.

Each time he pulled at the knot it seems to get tighter. He clenched his jaw not to cry out when a sharp turn made him slide into a wall. The way the road hummed, vibrating his tiny prison, he could guess they were going pretty fast, _but what happened?_

He curled into the fetal position and slowly worked his wrists past his ass and the soles of his feet. Focusing so diligently on untying the knots at his wrists and ankles, he was able to stave off panic and block out the larger picture. A knot was simple. It was one problem with one clear solution. Ramsay’s bandana tasted like sweat between Theon’s clenched teeth.

Once his limbs were free, Theon felt around for the emergency trunk release tab. He smiled and exhaled when his hand found it, then started working on sliding the trunk’s false bottom away to access his spare tire.

The car slowed, after how much time Theon couldn’t guess. It made a turn and the road grew quiet. It was soft now. Every so often a branch would crack under one of the tires. Theon heard himself panting and tried to remember the first time he got Robb drunk. They’d finally hit up an old liquor store. The shelves were pretty well cleaned out, but no one else had thought or taken the trouble to unscrew the locked storage room door from its hinges.

Robb’s dumb bike wouldn’t start, again. Motorcycles make so much god damned noise and you could be pulled right off of one, but Robb loved that piece of shit. He was always so unreasonable.

“ _Romantic_ ,” Robb corrected, smirking. “Being drunk is amazing. Why can’t we always feel like this?” He clinked his bottle of against Theon’s.

“I know, right?”

They had fled up a terrifying ladder that seemed to go on for centuries when the sun began to drop and watched the sunset from the walkway which wrapped around a water tower. The local high school's motto and mascot were distorted from where they sat, so close below it. They made bets with one another as to what the hell it said and was.

 

“What are you doing?” Theon had made a point of ignoring the uncomfortable fact that Robb had grown so much larger than him so quickly. He didn’t even know when it had happened, but once Robb pinned him to the rounded metal grate, it was a fact he could no longer ignore.

 

"Jack me off."

“Stop telling me what to do.”

Robb laughed. “Do it better then.”

“Shut up. You’re drunk and said that I'm taking advantage of you so… let me take, Robb.”

“Faster.”

Theon thrust harder instead. “ _You’re so annoying_.”

“You’re so in love with me.”

Thank god it was dark by then. He was drunk enough pretend that didn’t hurt and that he didn’t know better than to give into any of this.

 

Theon rolled until his shoulder hit something. He sat up to stretch and quickly hit his head. _I’m not in bed._ He was still clutching the tire iron and tried to get as close as he could manage to crouching, but Ramsay didn’t come. Instead, his footsteps crunched further and further away. Once he stopped hearing them, Theon released the trunk and crept out into a woodsy terrain. He lowered himself and slid against the side of the car. The door was unlocked, but the keys were gone.

 

Ramsay froze when the floor creaked behind him then slowly turned, Theon stood in the doorway, framed by sunlight, leveling an arrow at Ramsay’s head. “Well,” Ramsay pouted, “now you’ve gone and ruined your surprise.”

“Give me my key fob.”

“Why should I?” Ramsay crossed his arms and leaned against a workbench. The place seemed to small to be considered a cabin, but too large to be a shed. It smelled like pine and dirt but it was clean and Ramsay looked so comfortable in it.

“Because you’re home now. Good for you. I don’t care to die yet. Toss it over, and I’ll leave. If you don’t, I’ll send this arrow through your fucking skull and then take it off your corpse.”

“Really?” Ramsay tilted his head as if Theon should know better. His disappointed demeanor caught Theon off guard.

“What… yes, really. Just give me my fucking key.”

Ramsay bottom lip protruded as he made a show of nodding seriously. “I trust you not to kill me.”

“You can’t-” Theon began to protest then his heart ran cold. “What happened?”

“You sound like you figured it out.” Ramsay stood and returned to casually searching through a drawer he’d pulled out.

“What happened to my friends?”

“Pfft,” Ramsay laughed and didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Theon looked around as if some detail of the workroom was bound to clarify things. He could almost believe things were fine… that he was actually the victim some terrible misunderstanding.

“Perfect!” Ramsay spun around clutching a leather ring. He beckoned Theon with a crooked finger. “Come here.”

“I’m… going to kill you.” Theon sounded more bewildered than threatening.

Ramsay curled a little, laughing. He looked Theon up and down with a coy smile and slowly approached him.

“Stop. Give me my fucking key, Ramsay. You don’t have to die like this.” Theon’s thighs flexed as the instinct to step back lost to his need to stand his ground.

Ramsay only extended his empty hand. “Give me your weapon.”

Theon released the arrow which had been shaking in his burning hand. Ramsay didn’t even blink as he pulled another from his quiver.

“I didn’t think you made a habit of missing.” His bright gray eyes darted up and away from Theon’s. His face darkened as cold metal pressed into Theon’s throat.

“Drop it.”

"Oh, fucking relax, Dom. We're just playing around. Hey!" Ramsay grinned brightly and snatched Theon's bow from his frozen hands. "The ladies are going to _love_ your new scars."


	10. Release Me

“I brought you something.” Ramsay stretched his arm against Theon’s chest to pull him back away from Domeric’s blade then stood in front of him.

“I hope so.” His sterling gray eyes scanned Theon then rested on Ramsay’s. “I don’t need to kill him. I’ll take him-”

“Not the boy, dipshit. The _car._ You’re fucking welcome.”

“He tried to kill me.”

“I’m sorry-” Theon stopped when Ramsay raised his hand and frowned at his own words.

“Well, you _were_ pointing a gun at his face. Just look! He’s pathetic, poor thing. His little friends just died in front of him. Don’t take shit so personally.”

Theon’s jaw sank as his chest caved in. _Is that what happened?_ Everything lost its sound and color. He was removed, so cold and separate, yet imbued with all the horrors of the world.

If Domeric was displaying any kind of reaction, Theon was unable to read it. “What are you doing with him?”

“I’m _keeping_ him.” Ramsay raised the strip of leather in his hand. “See? He nursed me back to health and orchestrated my escape. It’s only fair to look after him. I’m so tenderhearted, you know.” Ramsay’s smile was a thin flat line. He seemed eager for his brother to challenge him.

Silence stung the piney air for a moment, then Ramsay tossed Domeric Theon’s key fob as if it was only an interesting rock he’d found and not Theon’s lifeline and salvation.

Domeric nodded slightly. “There are people for you to look at tonight if you’re up to it.” He walked over to sit on a stool and light a pipe. Theon felt the tension ease until Ramsay slipped so close behind him.

At first, Theon thought Ramsay was strangling him and tried to spin. Ramsay’s elbows pinched Theon’s shoulders to stop him. “Shh. Be good. Everyone here is dying to kill an intruder for me, or kidnap a pretty lost boy and use him for… whatever they can think of. You wear this and stay attached to me then you’ll be safe.”

Ramsay pulled away from Theon’s ear with an excited smile. “Dom, tell Lil Wald to come look over the new meat with me tonight. Hey!” Ramsay grabbed his jaw with one hand and forced him to face Dom directly. “Who does he look like? Huh?”

Dom slowly smiled. “Father will want to see him. I’ll take him for you since you hate to visit The Community,” he offered kindly but firmly.

“ _Domeric_ ,” Ramsay sang, his sharp canines unveiling themselves with each syllable, “ _no one_ is taking him _anywhere_ but ME.”

Domeric seemed more amused than anything but gave a gentlemanly nod of his head.

 The leather wasn’t tight on Theon’s neck. It was even soft against his skin, for now. Still, he couldn’t breathe and shortly after he heard his own body gasping and wheezing; he could no longer stay conscious.

 

“He needs water.”

“I _know_ that.”

“He should rest somewhere cool and shady once he’s rehydrated.”

 _“Yeah,_ I fucking know. Hey! There he is!” Ramsay stroked Theon’s face and glared at Domeric while smiling whatever _I told you so_ he felt he’d earned.

Theon blinked and squinted up at them. “What…”

“Come on. Let’s feed you and take you home.” Ramsay bit his giddy grin and yanked the leash attached to the collar around Theon’s neck. Each Bolton took a shoulder and pulled him up to standing.

 

Theon’s palms and fingertips gently smacked against his thighs with every step he took. A herd of walkers moaned and hissed in the distance. Theon spun and tried to spread his hands to keep balance when the collar continued on regardless, but the cuffs stopped his wrists. He had to hop and turn to avoid falling on his face.

Ramsay merely reproached him with a dark glare over his shoulder and snapped the leash. After an embarrassing gasp, Theon quickened his pace. The Bolton’s rumbled things to each other as Theon was led through the woods. The gurgling rasping groans of the walkers only grew louder. He didn’t hear a word they said, only his heart beating and his own shallow breaths in his ears.

Ramsay took in the slack to pull him closer. “If you get scared,” he whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Theon could make out the fort through the trees before anything else, and wondered how the hell they were able to make it. Then the loud groaning multiplied and became frenzied.

Ramsay looked back with a reassuring smile like he was only telling Theon a scary story. That’s when Theon saw the trees move. 

That’s when Theon saw the trees move.  "Please," he stammered, blinking back tears. "Please let me go."

 


	11. Keep What I Earn

“Oh,” Theon gasped. “Oh no. Oh no.” He kept repeating his lamentation and sank to his knees. Above him, Walkers thrashed and hissed on wooden poles. One close to him slid down with a sickening squish. One gnawed at the point pushing through its mouth.

“Do you like my garden? The smell keeps herds away.”

“And people,” Domeric added dryly. He couldn’t sound more like Father if his perfect life depended on it.

Ramsay watched Theon crawl forward weeping. When extended his fine long fingers, the boy became a piece of art. “Robb,” Theon choked. “No. _Please_ , no.”

Well, this could not have gone any better. Ramsay smiled and approached the poor thing. He pet Theon’s loose curls and clucked his tongue. “At least now you don’t have to worry about finding him! Huh?”

Domeric groaned and rolled his judgmental eyes. “You don’t know how to handle humans and their human feelings. I’ll take him. You can have the car.”

Like a perfect angel, Theon wrapped his arms around Ramsay’s legs and sobbed against his thigh.

 _"Sorry,”_ Ramsay spit. “He’s quite attached to me, as you can see.”

“Hmm.” Domeric pressed on without them.

“Shhh, don’t worry, sweet boy,” Ramsay said softly. “I will _never_ let you go.”

 

Theon tried to keep his blurry eyes on the dirt path in front of him but it was hard to ignore all the attention. When he did glance up, most people were staring at Ramsay in a way Theon understood, like he was both a nightmare and a miracle. Some people did point at Theon and whisper, though. He felt as small as he once was under Ned Stark’s shadow.

 

Ramsay’s home was crisp and cool. He almost _felt_ the yellow light and looked up slowly. _Electricity._ It was certainly a surprise, and that registered logically, but it did nothing to thaw his numbness.

Ramsay smirked and snapped at the leash to keep Theon moving.

 

A red haired woman rushed down a wide stairwell while a fair-haired one hung back near the top. “What is this?” The redhead asked. She looked Theon over standing tiptoe on one foot with the other curled up behind her.

 _“I’m fine_ , Myranda. Don’t worry.” Ramsay freed one wrist, but only to cuff Theon’s hands behind his back now. He tied the leash to the bannister and growled at the taller girl with dark brown hair as he grabbed her ass. “You can touch him.” He told Myranda before walking down the hall. “He won’t bite.”

“He’s tan!” The other girl said smiling. They both circled around him while he stared at his feet.

Myranda lifted Theon’s shirt and made an excited noise. “What’s his name, Ramsay?” she called down the hall.

“I haven’t decided,” Ramsay shouted back.

 _“Theon,”_ came like a ghost from his lips.

The other girl played with his hair. “Is he nice?”

“Of course, he is. Look at him.” Myranda's delicate fingers slipped down into the front of his waistband and pulled it out.

Theon gasped and stepped back earning some tinkling giggles from the girls. Ramsay laughed and talked to a boy with a low rumbly voice in the next room.

“Is he for me?!”

The room down the hall went silent, then Ramsay came storming out. “I like how NO ONE fucking cares what happened to me! I almost died, you stupid cunt!” 

Myranda rolled her eyes, unimpressed until he grabbed her throat and shoved her away by it. 

“That’s all anyone has had to motherfucking say to me since I got here. ‘What do you have for me?’ ‘What did you bring me?’ ‘Is that mine? Can I have it?’ You fucking parasites.” He unwound the leather knot from the bannister and yanked Theon to his side. “And what do you want from me?" He asked coldly, staring Theon down as though he'd been caught breaking into Ramsay's home and was being asked to explain himself.

He wasn’t sure and it wasn’t especially easy to think. Theon felt transparent, hollow, and ached miserably to feel anything. There is a low and steady horror in being unreal, even though it’s funny, even though it’s light and free like air, a terror whispered just behind him that he was never real and never mattered.

“I…” warm tears eased his burning eyes. “I just want you to like me,” he mumbled.

Ramsay’s frown eased into a smile. “Pathetic.” He looked up, behind Theon’s shoulder. “Get lil' Wald for me. I want to see the new meat after dinner.”

“Sure,” boomed over Theon’s head.

 

Ramsay led him up two flights of stairs into an office suite that had been converted into a penthouse apartment. The giant followed and grinned at Theon once he was tethered to Ramsay’s bedpost, in a way that was malicious but didn’t feel threatening.

“So?” The giant seemed to bounce as he walked around the open space, running his fist into his open palm.

“So?” Ramsay pulled his clothes off and left them where they fell.

“What happened? Where were you?” Damon followed Ramsay to his bathroom.

“Have you heard of the Wolf Pack? I found their den. It’s above the Mississippi, practically impenetrable. They have some kind of alliance with the other tribes in the city.”

Damon practiced pulling his gun from its holster, aiming at the far wall, as he leaned in the bathroom doorway. “Where’s your little boy, Zeke?”

“They killed him,” Ramsay said through the warm fog which slowly filled the room with sweet smelling spices. “So we’re going to march in there and kill his killers.”

Damon silently made a ‘bang’ and spun his gun down into his holster. “Oh yeah?” He drew it again, closing one eye as soon as he steadied it. “Well, how do we do that if it’s pretty much impenetrable?”

“They’re going to let us in. Give me a week to get more information.”

“From your prisoner? You need me to question him?”

After a brief explosion of a laugh, Ramsay turned the water off with a few squeaks of the metal handle. “Do I need you to _what_? Get me motherfucking towel you Godzilla-sized cocksucking toddler.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Damon threw open the bathroom closet and hurled a towel at Ramsay’s face. He started bobbing and weaving with his fists up and ready. “So? A week huh? We have to wait a whole week? What do we do now?”

“Get our shit in order. Fucking, get out of here before you make my boy piss himself, you fucking hyper psycho! God damn it!” Ramsay shoved his shoulder into Damon until he took the subtle hint and let himself be pushed out the door.

“Well, I just saw you! When are you going to hang out? Did you get anything?”

“Shut up!” Ramsay slammed the door and raised his shaking fists. _“Vultures!”_ He spun around to see Theon on the floor at the foot of his bed, his wavy hair resting on his knees, his arms hugging his shins. He sniffed and seemed to shrink even more.

“You see how much they love me?” Ramsay joked gesturing towards the door. “My own brother was so fucking relieved to see me alive, he couldn’t even find the words to express his gratitude for the _car_ I gave him.”

Theon peeked up slowly. “No one cared when I came back either. I think they were disappointed if anything. I guess people just want to get by.”

Ramsay walked over slowly. “You could have let me die, or left me to be executed. What _do_ you need me for, Theon?”

Theon shook his head then hid it again. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“Sure you do,” Ramsay said softly. He ran his fingers through Theon's hair, trying to comb every strand the girls had touched. “ _Lots_ of important things.”


	12. Terrorized

Ramsay reached out for Theon’s head then dove his fingers down through Theon’s waves of hair, like Osprey diving into a muddy river. When Ramsay's lips parted to exhale, his breath came out shaking.  
  
Theon pulled his forehead off his bony knees to look up very slowly. “What… what do you need me for?”  
His blue-green eyes were shining orbs of fragility. Ramsay found the colors of life at their core and wondered what could be more beautiful than helplessness in the thing that you want?  
  
“Need,” Ramsay mused idly. “What’s the difference between need and desire?” Ramsay held fast to Theon’s hair when he began to pull away and took the leather leash in his other hand to yank the boy closer. “Desire works best as a noun, I think. It's a force, an element of its own. But need; that’s a verb, really. Need to what in order to what? I need to breathe in order to live. I need to rest in order to think. I need Theon to… what?”  
  
“I don’t…” Theon’s mind was unusually sluggish, which Ramsay found rather endearing. Trauma seemed to overstimulate people, break something inside them. Especially the weak ones and this one was so weak, Ramsay could taste his blood in the water.  
  
“What does Theon need Ramsay for?” Ramsay grinned brightly and pulled Theon’s passive head to the floor by its untamed hair. “Think very hard for me.”  
“I… it's raining.”  
  
That was unexpected. Ramsay looked out his windows. “Ye-ah . It... sure is.”  
  
“He’s being rained on.”  
  
“... What?”  
  
“Please,” Theon hiccuped, “can I take him down? I need to bury him.”  
  
Ramsay pressed his lips trying not to sneer. “Is that really a need , Theon? Or are you just ignoring me?”  
  
“But… he’s afraid of them. I just need to bury my friend. Please?”  
  
Ramsay jumped up from the floor. “FINE! You just have your own fucking agenda and I’m wasting your time is that it?”  
  
“What?” Theon replied blankly, like some kind of joke. Like Ramsay didn't matter, wasn’t even there. Like he was nothing! Ramsay flew out on his rage and slammed the door.  
  
Theon blinked a few times then stared at the ceiling.  
  
  
“HERE!” Ramsay roared as his door flew open.  
  
Theon startled awake and rubbed the drool off his mouth. The carpet had left a red impression on his face.  
  
Ramsay threw a bowling ball at Theon, which bounced and spun oddly before stopping just a few feet in front of him. “HAPPY?!”  
  
The object Theon's feet hissed and growled. "Oh, god." Theon slowly reached out to touch Robb's soaked hair. It was so curly, he thought maybe he could straighten it somehow or... "Oh, god. He's dead. He's really fucking dead. Little Robb, pushy god damn perfect Robb. He's just a fucking kid. It's such shit! Maron was right! It's all pointless BULLSHIT!"  
  
Ramsay's march came to a halt in front of Theon. "He was your brother?"  
  
Theon nodded, silently.  
  
"He was perfect?" Locking Theon in his closet with the head he'd torn down seemed so rash now, that it was funny.  
  
"Always." Theon swallowed and looked up, finally. "Everyone loved him. He made them tolerate me. I was supposed to protect him and-"  
  
"Yes. Well, now he's dead! See?" Ramsay grabbed the head by its ugly orange hair and took it to his fireplace. He tossed the thing in and shut the pane on it with a happy grin."All gone! But I'm still here, Theon. Time to adapt."  
  
Robb’s head rolled in the flames. His hair started to smoke. His nose was black.

Theon looked away and finally focused on Ramsay instead of staring off far away dreaming of killing him and laughing while he fucked whores on Ramsay’s corpse, probably. "I'm sorry. I think I snapped or... You're all wet and dirty. Are you hurt?"  
  
"Yes! I'll probably die because of you! I think that fucker bit me."  
  
"Oh, no!" Theon's idiot eyes bulged out of his head. “No! Where?!” He jumped up and tried to grab Ramsay, who stepped away.

Theon grabbed his collar when it choked him back. Ramsay smacked his hands away. “Don’t touch that. Come on. I have a job for you.”  
  
“But! You said- were you bitten?”  
  
“I was kidding.” Ramsay pushed past him and undid the knot securing Theon’s leash to his bedpost. “This is a very important game we’re going to play.”

He hurried out of the room talking excitedly as Theon stumbled and jogged to catch up. “Would you rather stay in a room or a cage?”  
  
“A... a room.”  
  
Ramsay shrugged. “Well, if you can keep your eyes only on me and no one else, I won’t make you live in a cage. Ok?” He snapped Theon’s leash when he started to answer. “That wasn’t really a question. Don’t speak unless spoken to until I say otherwise.”  
  
  
Ramsay hummed a little song to himself as he jogged downstairs where Domeric was waiting with Luton and Damon. His weak pet crashed into Ramsay's back when he stopped at the landing.  
  
Domeric sighed, though his symmetrical face didn't display much grief. "Did you even give him water?"  
  
Ramsay glanced over his shoulder to find Theon staring at him and smirked. "When you get your own Theon, you can make him drink a fucking swimming pool, Dom."  
  
" _Domeric_ ," his brother calmly corrected.  
  
  
  
It had stopped raining. Theon followed Ramsay along with his men and brother until they stopped upon some kind of stage. People were crying and loudly swallowing air one shivering breath at a time in the mud below.

Theon only looked at Ramsay, even when Skinner held out a tray a throwing knives, even when women screamed and a man started cursing in hysterical panic, even when Ramsay laughed and started picking off the ones who tried to fight or run away.


	13. Sanctified

“That was a good group.” Ramsay patted Dom’s shoulder. “The three Alyn took won’t last long, but they’re strong. As soon as they run or fight take them for a ride in the van."

Domeric swallowed back a protest. “Do you want to deal with the bodies yourself? I don’t suppose you’ve lost your taste for that?”

“It’s functional art, Dom. Where is civilization without some fucking culture?” He snapped Theon’s leash which got him to stand and follow like he’d been trained for years! Or maybe he was an extension of Ramsay’s will? No, he made just for Ramsay. Ramsay grinned and jogged down the stairs off his stage. Yes, he knew that when he saw his boy.

Wally stood waiting for his approval. It used to be cute, now it was getting boring. “ _This_ is the one you picked?” Ramsay couldn’t bother to hide his disappointment.

“Yeah… We good?”

Ramsay stuck his warm handgun under a feisty blond’s chin. “What made you pick her? Her perky tits? Her blowjob lips? You think that’s all that matters?”

“No.” Wally looked the girl over as though he was about to kick her tires. “She’s little.”

“I find stature counts for less than people seem to think,” Domeric remarked dryly.

“That’s right.” Ramsay smiled coldly at his brother but his eyes laughed.

It was getting dark already. Theon had awakened in his own bed just a few hours ago, but where would he be when he woke next? It might be nice if he never did again.

“Look at her eyes you shitheaded mewling veiny cock. Where is she looking?”

Lil’ Wald ran his thick hand over his shaved head. “At me.”

“Yes. Right in your fucking eyes. And _how_ does she look at you, Wally?”

“Well…”

Ramsay dropped Theon’s leash on the dirt in front of him then used an open hand and smile to gesture for Wally to do the same with the rope around the short blonde’s neck.

Lil’ Wald acquiesced after hesitating. The girl swept his feet with a furious scream and took off running for the woods.

“Like she fucking hates you,” Ramsay answered, finally. “Like she would run or attack the instant she could.”

Theon flinched when Ramsay brought her down.

 

***

“Don’t close your eyes,” he laughed. “You fucking moron!”

“Argh!” Robb threw the handgun at the bottles and still missed. “I suck! I can’t do it like you do!”

Theon grabbed Robb by his shirt collar and hissed. “ _Never throw a loaded gun._ ”

He stomped across the dead grass and picked his gun up by the handle with a shaking hand. But he didn’t hit Robb or scream at him to get the fuck out when he made his way back. Instead, he forced a smile. “Maron was always better at me than everything.”

“Who?” Robb said coldly. His freckled face was a red mix of embarrassment anger and hurt that Theon understood.

“My big brother. I’m telling you a fucking secret, Stark. Don’t be an asshole! I don’t want anyone to know someone was better than me at anything.”

Robb smiled a little and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “He was?”

“Of course, he was. But, you know, now I realize that he was older than me. He’d been doing things for years that I just started learning. Maybe he wasn’t…” Theon shrugged. “One day, you won’t suck so much. When you’re my age, you’ll be able to do the shit I can.”

“You think I’ll reach your age?”

Theon frowned uncomfortably. “I’m not that much older.” How much older? How could he forget? What year was it? Funny how that just didn’t mean anything anymore.

“I’ll be bigger than you, huh?”

“Maybe. Shut up and try again.”

“I nearly am already!”

“I said shut the fuck up and try again. Your dad wants you to hit something with a bullet before dinner today.”

“One day you won’t be able to tell me to ‘shut up’ anymore,” Robb grumbled. After steading the gun he exhaled and locked his elbows then raised the sight to the green glass and watched it explode. “I DID IT!”

“Finally!” Theon grinned and slapped his back. “Good job, kid. It’s harder with a moving target, though. Once you hit all three we can try a walker.”

***

 

Theon could still see his proud smile. Maybe he could ask Ramsay for Robb’s jacket, just to smell him. The image of red hair rolling through fire intruded upon his thoughts and made him flinch again.

“Now look at this one.” Ramsay pointed to Theon’s blank face. “See the difference?”

Wally watched the girl clawing at the earth, trying to get away maybe but not going anywhere. He glanced at Ramsay’s pet as his shoulders sank. “I don’t know.”

Domeric rolled his eyes. “I need to talk to you,” he pressed.

“I’m in the middle of a lesson.”

“It’s a waste of time and you know it.”

“Aw,” Ramsay put a hand over his broken heart. “Dom, how can you be so cruel. Lil’ Wald is not a waste of space.”

“That’s not-” Domeric stepped delicately away from the lumbering Frey boy. “I have more to tell you. You’ve been away for weeks. Father-”

Ramsay raised a hand. “You’re being rude.”

“I am not.”

“Tell me why he didn’t run or fight. Read his body language. Start with his eyes.” Ramsay caught Dom eyeing the leash and snatched it off the ground.

“He looks… sad? Empty?”

“Hopeless. Broken,” Domeric corrected coldly. “His head is down, his gaze is low, he’s pulled his shoulders in and bent low to subconsciously make himself look smaller. His hands are trembling slightly from the adrenaline coursing through him yet his muscles relaxed because his in a submissive, receptive state. He’s not tensed, poised to spring up and fight or flee at the first chance. There’s a free lesson for you. Though you’ll never possess the mental capacity to utilize that information, my brother found it vital to give you so he could prolong my annoyance. You may leave us now, Walder.”

Lil’ Wald frowned and slowly took one step after another in the other direction.

“Rude.”

“Now, would you please come inside so we can speak?”

“Dom went to graduate school, Theon.”

Theon’s eyes briefly scanned their faces before sinking back down. He gave a slight nod as Domeric huffed in exasperation.

“He’s quite impressed himself and thinks being unable to defend his dissertation and get the doctorate daddy wanted is the greatest tragedy of the whole apocalypse.”

“Yes, I had been offered a position at MIT but neither of us made it into the institutions we were suited for.”

Ramsay seemed to enjoy that remark on some level and slipped an arm around his brother’s neck. “Fine.” He gave the leash a quick tug and Theon rose to follow.

 

“No.”

Domeric raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Theon could feel Ramsay seething above him.

He took another shot and slid the bottle of Theon’s rum across the table. “Not everything under the fucking sun is _yours,_ Domeric.”

“I am not trying to take him from you. Father has been trying to negotiate-”

“He’s mine.”

Domeric rubbed his forehead with two delicate fingers. “You’re drunk.”

“Drink with me.”

“No, thank you.” Domeric stood and pushed his chair in. His graceful hand waited on the back of his chair a moment. His eyes darted subtly as he decided on something, silent as always.

“Go home then,” Ramsay said bitterly.

“You don’t even like me.”

Ramsay shrugged and swallowed.

“Why do you care if I leave? It doesn’t make sense.”

“You’d have to have a soul for it to compute. Don’t bring him here. I’ll see Father when I’m ready. By the next full moon. If not, come be the stick up my ass again.”

 

After Domeric left, Theon could _feel_ Ramsay’s eyes on his back. He turned to look up over his shoulder, one centimeter at a time.

Ramsay grinned and offered Theon his shot glass. “Here. You’ll drink with me, won’t you?”

Theon held back his questions with ease, he was too tired to ask them. His concerns didn’t seem to matter. Nothing did. “Thank you,” he mumbled. Theon took note how happy that made Ramsay. The rum warmed and eased his cramping stomach.

Ramsay wiped his mouth. “He thinks I’m an animal. I think he hates being related to me.”

“A… animal?” Theon accidently replied.

“A stupid fucking savage.”

“You don’t think…” Theon bit his fat numb lip and cleared his throat. _What am I doing?_

“What?”

“I think maybe he clings to… I mean, it _used_ to matter if you had his type of intelligence. It used to matter a lot… before. Now, your kind of intelligence is the only kind that matters. Analyzing Shakespeare doesn’t keep you safe or put food in your stomach. That has to be a hard fall, I think.” Ramsay’s eyes penetrated Theon so that he had to look away.

“ _My kind_ of intelligence?”

“I don’t know.” Theon smiled regretfully and tried to shrug his idea away.

“What do you think about my intellect, Theon?”

“I think you may be the most clever person I ever met. I think you know exactly how to get what you want.”

Ramsay grinned and combed his fingers through Theon’s wild hair. “Have another.” The cool, clear glass pressed against Theon’s lips. “Go on.”

His throat contracted in protest, but Theon opened his mouth when he was told to.

“That’s right, take it for me.” Ramsay poured the liquor down his new toy’s throat then crawled down over him.


	14. Lost

After a frantic blur of being grabbed, shoved, and scratched as clothes were ripped away. Cold was the air on his skin and colder was the polished wood against his face. Ramsay’s arm slid under his hips and lifted them. The table was hard against his knees. Then he felt wet and hot.

“Fuck!” Theon hand smacked the table in front of him then clawed around until his palm gripped the side. “Oh-” his mouth hung open with no protest to make.

Everything was wrong. _It doesn’t matter._ There was so much to process. _There’s nothing to be done._ Robb was dead. Eddard was dead. Maron had died long ago. _I’m just waiting to die, it doesn’t matter. Everything is dead and everything’s an empty dream._

Theon gasped when Ramsay took his mouth away. He pulled Theon’s hips back past the table’s edge. His toes hit the tile first. “Shit!” The black clouds parted in his mind, just enough for a sliver of reality to shine through. “I can’t,” he cried and pushed up from the table suddenly.

Ramsay took a fistful of his hair and slammed his head into the table. The alcohol helped with the pain and maybe some pain and horror was better than _wanting_ this. He heard Ramsay spitting, into his hand presumably. Theon closed his eyes.

At first he thought Ramsay was too drunk, or excited, or maybe just didn’t have the lighting and angle he needed to force his way inside, but each time Ramsay’s head rubbed against the hole his mouth had warmed, Theon would gasp or whine and his thick fingers would dig further into Theon’s hip. He was just prolonging the dread. _Because he fucking gets off on it._

Theon shivered and curled his arms over his head with a whimper, trying to hide more from the inarticulated but overwhelming knowledge that this was a judgment constructed just for him somehow.

Ramsay exhaled sensuously in response and was unable to hold back any longer.

“Ah! AH! Gah-nnnnn,” Theon groaned and slapped the table as if to tap out of a hold.

“Relax.” Ramsay rubbed his hand gently up Theon’s spine in a way that made him shiver all over again. His tongue landed between Theon’s shoulders and made a hungry path to the base of his neck.

Theon gulped against the table. “Don’t hate me. Don’t do this to me and hate me, please,” his voice slurred.

“Shh.” Ramsay’s breath was hot against his ear. “I adore you,” he whispered then kissed Theon’s neck so lightly it almost seemed chaste, or sweet.

 _Impossible,_ he realized. That was the word for it but Theon nodded and swallowed the salty lump in his throat. Ramsay’s arms squeezed around Theon’s ribs yet he could only breathe easier. Ramsay’s weight on his back was the kind of sick comfort he could actually believe in.

“That’s it,” Ramsay coaxed gently. “Good boy. You’re _mine._ ”

It kept going on and building. Theon bit his lip as his eyes rolled back.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“ _Always_.”

“Always.”

Theon’s hand slipped under the table to grab his cock but his hand was smacked away.

“No.”

 

The next morning Theon was sober and panicked. He reached back to unbuckle the collar chaffing his neck and his hand was smacked again.

“ _No_.”

 

He reached for a plate at breakfast and almost recoiled in time but his knuckles stung when Ramsay yanked him forward by the collar he didn’t think he could stand another second.

“No.”

Theon sat on the tile where Ramsay had fallen upon him the night before while his attacker ate with silverware that clinked and scraped against a clean plate. He watched his toes spread and curl while Ramsay idly ran three fingers through his hair.

Ramsay pulled his hand away as Damon tried to convince him could make a run and come back with grease for some reason. Then a crust of bread appeared in front of Theon’s nose. He stared for a moment, not understanding until Ramsay gave the scrap an impatient shake.

Fuck it. He hadn’t had bread since he was a child.

 

Ramsay was waiting at the bottom of the stairwell when Theon made his way down that evening. “Who let you out?”

“Who… what?” He stood hugging himself not even halfway down the staircase. His mind was thick and dark like Mississippi mud. “I… I was thirsty,” he seemed to ask instead of explain.

“There’s a working sink in my bedroom.” Ramsay climbed three stairs with a dark, sharp, smile.

A crushing agony more hopeless than fear pressed down upon Theon squeezing unfinished thoughts and confused feelings out in tears and babbling. “I can’t find my clothes.”

Alyn appeared at the landing but quickly turned around and left as Ramsay slowly took another step towards Theon.

Theon stepped back, panting and shrinking. “I don’t know where I am. I think they’re all dead.” He took another step up and fell back, bracing himself on the stairs behind him. “I need to go home. I want to go home. I need to go home now. Please-”

 

There was no alcohol or gentle touch upstairs.

 

Theon ended up alone in a cage that once belonged to a large dog. He guessed from the hair or two he found that it was a German Shepherd. He had his water now, but his mouth was bleeding, which made drinking unappealing.

 

Somehow Theon learned how to keep Ramsay happy very quickly. Ramsay felt this substantiated his romantic delusions and some pretty degrading beliefs about Theon he’d been harboring since they’d met.

“It’s just instinct for you. It’s the way you were made,” Ramsay would muse in his bed as he pet Theon’s blank face. The screaming of unwanted captives must have been like waves lapping the night shore to Ramsay; it seemed to make him relaxed and sentimental. “You were made for me.”

Theon would always agree quietly.

 

Even when he was sleeping, Ramsay still controlled Theon. He’d be flipped onto his side, yanked closer, felt up, squeezed. Sometimes he’d pet Theon’s hair with a rough stroke or two, then his hand would just lay there, on the side of Theon’s head. It didn’t feel like being a prisoner then or most of the time. Things were so stupid and ordinary… most of the time. Except that he was confined to one room unless he was on a leash and he would be caged in the room when Ramsay was away for days.

He still slept so well. There was never any mosquitos biting him, or roaches startling him awake. It didn’t feel like a sauna, Ramsay’s home was crisp and cool and the sheets were soft and clean. Those things still mattered, to his surprise. Not things to live for, but they made living better while you still had to do it.

Sometimes he let himself enjoy being held, praised and petter. Theon could almost believe Ramsay had to keep him like this for his own good because the world was beyond dangerous; it was hell and he knew that. It was hard to fight, to keep his sanity locked deep inside his chest, where Ramsay couldn’t sniff it out. The snake oil Ramsay offered smelled so good, even better than the real thing.

 

“You’re precious to me.” Ramsay’s lips brushed against the back of Theon’s ear.

Theon swallowed and moan a helpless, “uh huh.” He tried to slither his hand up his hip without Ramsay seeing.

“No.” Ramsay smacked his hand away and bent over, squishing Theon below him, to take a razor off his nightstand.

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”

Ramsay stopped thrusting but didn’t pull out. He watched the silver razor blade slide lightly across Theon’s nipple with fascination.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

Ramsay stunning bright grey eyes flashed up as he grinned.

  
One day, maybe after a season or year had passed, Theon woke up in Ramsay’s bed to Domeric’s voice.


	15. Taken

The door opened in a hesitant yet smooth manner. Theon knew he hadn’t mistaken Domeric’s voice before his profile peered past the doorframe. “May I come in?”

“Uh…” Theon cleared his throat and tried to lower his tight whisper of a voice.

Domeric entered silently before he could object.

“Where’s Ramsay?”

“Showing Father the mill. He wants you by his side now, if you could please hurry.”

“Oh.”

Luton produced himself suddenly and approached the bed with a key in his outstretched hand. “It’s alright,” he mumbled softly, not looking up from the lock he opened. “You’ll calm him down.”

“Oh,” Theon sighed. “Yes.” He freed his ankle from the unlocked cuff clutching it.

 

“Here they come!” Ramsay called up to Father. He then marched down the wooden corral in his armor of inside out putrid skin. Father gagged against his will and very character when Ramsay emerged  in his special suit. People are so sensitive, but smells never bothered Ramsay.

He opened the van’s double doors which were being clawed at already. _Good. Put on a show._

This new batch was strong. Much stronger than usual because Ramsay didn’t care who would work willingly in the field or protect or collect from the tribes under his thumb. He just pointed out the biggest men and told Damon to take them for a ride. Despite the stench from the corpse he wore, Ramsay was always caught the welcome waft of exhaust when he opened the van’s doors.

Walkers are easy. They stumbled down through the corral without buzzing in Ramsay’s ear with annoying demands, questions, pleas, crying. He guided and strapped them to the rutters one by one. Before he’d even finished, the mill was slowly sending grain down three steel shoots.

Aloft on a wooden catwalk, Roose gave his bastard son a cold nod.

Ramsay smiled, looking up from the dirt-covered floor.

 

“ _Give him to me_ ,” Ramsay growled. His translucent eyes shone under an enormous skull, broken along its fissures to resemble a helmet.

Domeric tried to examine the tag hanging from Theon’s collar as if he hadn’t heard his brother’s command.

Theon broke away before he could read the inscription and walked up the long gravel drive to join Ramsay.

“Do you have to wear that among the living?”

Theon helped Ramsay out of his skin suit. Sour Alyn took it away to the cool dry cellar beneath the mill.

“Theon,” Ramsay started in a low, pressing voice, “that man joining Domeric by the road is my father. There’s a nasty pirate interfering with some of his offshore and coastal operations. They want to use you as a hostage, or worse." Ramsay’s fingers ran behind Theon’s ears, they seemed bigger now that he’d lost weight. Sliding through soft tangled hair, they wrapped around the back of Theon’s head.

 _He wants you to say something._ “I… I don’t want to go. He’ll kill me.”

Ramsay swallowed and bit his thick lip. “Well, I don’t want you to go either but you aren’t safe here.” He started rubbing his fingertips into the back of Theon’s head.

“I don’t…”

“I have to take you back. I’ll come for you next spring. Will you leave with me?”

Theon swallowed and nodded. He was sick with nervous excitement. “Will you really come back for me?” Would they really take him back? Who was left at the bridge? Maybe Bran would be there with Meera and that other girl.

“You’re perfect,” Ramsay whispered. He had held Theon’s head like this before.

 

***

 

He wasn’t allowed to go downstairs but sometimes Theon lingered by the door or, if was open, he might sit near the top of the stairwell just to look. He would hear voices fairly often, but usually not clearly enough to understand them. When people talked by the landing, however, they’d have inevitably forgotten he was upstairs or perhaps that he existed at all. He sometimes felt almost included, or at least connected,when conversations were intimate. It was his living room where he could try to catch radio programs but the signal would go out from day to day. As it happened, Theon had lots of free time to fill in the blanks.

As big as it was, Ramsay’s room could only be divided up into so many areas. Underneath the bed was Theon’s dark, tight cave to hide. He could breath easier there than in the closet but sometimes he would draw in the closet with the door open so that was his studio and he kept the pen and checkbook Ramsay allowed him to take from the pile of belongings other slaves sorted through on worn smooth picnic tables.

The bathroom was bright. The cool tile was nice on his back. It helped him to calm him when he thought he’d die alone from horror. Staring at brownish drops that never fell and three hairs stuck, inexplicably, to the ceiling Theon often wondered what Ramsay would do upon finding his body. Laugh? Cry? Shrug? Rage…

The window was a warm place to visit the world. Sometimes the world was horrible. He’d draw the curtains. The cage was a lonely home. The bed was a loving monster whenever he crawled onto it.

The top of the stairwell was a paratrooper plane with an open hatch. Theon didn’t have a parachute but he wanted to jump.

“What are you doing?”

Theon had startled as though he’d been caught. “Nothing.”

“Did you touch that step, Theon?”

“I was just sitting. I was sitting here, um, waiting for you to wake up. Do you want-”

“Did you touch it?” Ramsay smiled down on him, so sharp.

Theon inched away from the stairs and slowly slid up the wall to standing. “Yes,” he said softly, not understanding what exactly that meant he was confessing to, though he had a sick feeling. “I wasn’t go-”

“What are stairs for?”

“I don’t…”

“What do people use them for?”

Theon’s fingers scraped the wall behind him. “To go… up and down?”

“That’s right.”

“But I didn’t! I was just sitting, really!”

Ramsay flung him around. Theon fell back but Ramsay caught his wrist and held him, twisted, hanging over the stairwell by it.

“What if I let go?”

Theon tried never to beg or raise his voice, it was better to thank Ramsay quietly.. or without words. This time, he couldn’t stop. He was falling. “Please!”

Ramsay cupped the back of his head. “Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed this _week_?”

Theon choked back tears uselessly. _Why did he have to say it?_ Of course, Theon had an idea, he just didn’t want to know.

Ramsay massaged his scalp gently. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” he sputtered. “I love you!”

Ramsay smiled and pulled the quivering mess into his arms. “You’re so _weak_. It was a joke!” He laughed. “What would you do without me? Hmm? You wouldn’t last a day out there, would you, you fucking pussy?”

“Nn-nooo,” he sobbed.

Ramsay carried him back to bed. “I’ll get a chain for you so you don’t hurt yourself.”

Theon curled up in the warmth. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

Theon found himself shaking in the late morning sun as Ramsay’s fingers ran down to the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to get dressed. Luton said you wanted me showered and dressed. He said-”

“Shhh, it’s ok. I need you to drive a boy to that bridge. I’ll go with you, just to make sure you’re safe.”

Theon rubbed his hands together, though it was rather warm. “A… boy?”

Ramsay pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

 

Theon was in his own clean clothes as he got into his own car. He turned to look at the redheaded boy beside him in the passenger seat but Ramsay reached over the headrest to turn Theon’s skull toward the road. _“Keep your eyes on the road,”_ he repeated. He hooked the chain leash to the collar through the gap between the seat and headrest.

What would happen if he reached the back of his neck, unhooked the leash, and jumped out of the car? The redhead beside him might die. His eyes wandered over but his collar was jerked back and the side of his face smacked before he got a good look at his passenger.

 _“No._ ”

Theon sniffed and blinked, lightly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Do you love me?” Almost as quickly as he had asked, Ramsay yanked Theon’s collar back again, holding it long and tightly enough to choke him a little. “No. Eyes on the road, Theon.”

Theon gasped, sucking in the air then started coughing. His eyes were blurred with stingy tears.

The boy with the curly red hair turned to curl into the door.

In his periphery, Theon saw colors on the boy’s shoulder and twisting back that made his knuckles shake around the steering wheel. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Do you trust me?”

Theon closed his eyes. _I could drive my car into a tree._

“What?” Ramsay said in a low voice, closer. He leaned forward, between the seats and ran a finger up and down Theon’s shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember meeting me?”

Theon frowned at his own smile. “Yes.” If he did run away somehow, or if this was goodbye, he would miss someone knowing him and who he used to be.

He knew Ramsay was a liar but he was such a damn good one. He didn’t push a lie outright, he sold it with little moments and touches like this, which Theon couldn’t hope to explain let alone defend himself against. Like when Ramsay was sleeping, with his lips parted. He snorted and squirmed then shoved Theon onto his side and pulled him to Ramsay’s chest with both heavy arms. His nose rubbed twice in Theon’s hair before sighing into it.

“You thought I was hot.”

Theon snorted. _He’s only distracting you._ “Mmm, yeah. Maybe.”

Ramsay started petting his head. “I wanted you too. You’re so sweet, so special. I won’t let them hurt you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

It was like being wrapped in his arms in the soft bed.

 

All too quickly, he was approaching the bridge. “What are you really going to do?”

“Just see if you’re safe here until I can come get you.”

“What is he doing here, Ramsay?” Came galloping like a spooked horse from his mouth.

“He has plants for your friend. I want you to stay here and stay safe.”

 _No, it's all wrong. Don’t believe him._ “Why can’t I look at him?” He stopped as the makeshift drawbridge began to lower.

“Because you’re still _mine._ You should only look at _me,_ ungrateful bitch,” Ramsay hissed against the back of Theon’s seat.

_He’s hiding._

_“_ ** _Drive_** _,_ Theon.”

 

“Look! It _is_ Robb! That’s the wolf shirt you made him and the jacket he left in!” Jeyne laughed.

“I can’t believe it.” Sansa squinted against the rising sun. “Why is Theon just sitting there?”

 

“Theon?”

His head slowly, numbly drifted towards his shoulder.

“I’d never let you go if I didn’t have to. In fact, I don’t think I can do this either. Why don’t you get out and I’ll drive us home. I’ll keep you guarded and locked in your cage when I’m gone, and chained to the bed when I’m there so they can’t take you from away if you can’t do this for me.”

“I can do it for you, Ramsay.” He put the car in drive. “You’ll come back for me?”

“Of course, I will. Do you think I give a shit about anyone else?”

Theon swallowed and slowly pressed on the gas. The strange redhead’s paper bag crinkled in his lap and Theon felt absurdly awkward.

“Good boy. I knew you could do it. Don’t be scared.”

He put the car in park. His fingers hung around the ignition indecisively, but the ramp was already being rising in the rearview mirror.

 

Ramsay threaded Theon’s chain leash back up around and under the headrest, then locked it to itself so that Theon had about six inches to pull his collar. He leaned forward as the passenger door opened and killed the ignition the popped the trunk. “I’m going to go talk to them. You stay here,” he said warmly.

“What- wait!”

Sansa screamed.

The car gave and rocked with a thump as Ramsay jumped onto its hood then climbed on top of the roof.

“Oh my god.” Theon felt like he did as a small child when his father would come home late for dinner and his mother would talk with nervous cheerfulness, chewing her thumbnail. He didn’t know _what_ was happening but he _felt_ it was incredibly wrong. He didn’t see what the hell he could do, but he _felt_ he absolutely _had_ to do something.

Luton and Lil' Wald each came up on opposite sides of the car pointing the biggest guns Theon had ever seen at the gathering crowd.

No Bran. No Meera. No Osha.

Was that even good or bad? Or did it matter? Theon’s wheezing gasps echoed in the empty car, getting faster and louder. He reached back to remove his collar, slowly, as if the guns pointing away were all aimed at his forehead. The chain was looped through the ring on his collar, not hooked on. “Shit.”

Something inside him seemed to switch onto autopilot. Maybe it was the old Theon, before Ramsay happened, or someone like him. He felt down to the little metal poles, then searched with his thumbs for the release buttons on either side.

Ramsay was making a grand announcement, muffled by the roof and the sound of distant engines Theon recognized.


	16. Send Up a Prayer

“I’ll take a measly quarter of your fruits and vegetables. I’ll take your rifles. I’ll take-”

“YOU! Beast!” Cassell pushed through the little gathering and aimed his rifle at Ramsay’s head.

“- your life,” Ramsay decided. He shot Cassell right through his throat and laughed as the old prick stumbled back cupping the hole. His heel kicked against the hot bridge as a pool of blood slowly grew beneath him. “I’ll take you, you, you annnndd” he scanned the cowed sheep victoriously for those fucking whores, “ _you."_

Kiera gasped. The hand shielding her eyes flew to clasp her chest.

“I want that boy Loren. Bring him to me and we’ll leave. You," he pointed to the old doctor, "start by bringing me a nice juicy apple.”

The ramp crashed, causing everyone to jump.

“Easy, you fucking idiots!” Ramsay laughed.

 

Theon popped the headrest off at last and jumped out of the car with the chain leash swaying between his shoulders. “STOP!”

Ramsay glared with a black expression. “Put him in the trunk.”

“STOP THEM! RAISE THE RAMP BEFORE THEY COME IN!” He ducked Walder’s grasping arms and took off.

Sansa and Jory drew their weapons. Shots fired and everyone ran.

Ramsay jumped down then slid his barrel between the car and open door to put a bullet through Jory’s mouth. He was so close, the back of his head exploded. Ramsay giggled and dropped Sansa as soon as she screamed. He couldn’t tell what he’d hit, but the only other fire was coming from his boys who picked off anyone not crying on the ground.

“ENOUGH!” Ramsay stood grinning. “Let the others have some fun. Alright, I wanted to be friends but you all just had to ruin it. New plan! We take everything and everyone we want and burn the rest. IT WOULD BEHOVE YOU TO KNOW,” he shouted over the cries and various colorful lamentations, “that we keep people who do things like shut up and obey and we kill people who do things like run and fight.” He turned to watch his brother and his boys roaring and cheering up the road to the bridge. “Why the fuck is the trunk still open?”

“Raise the ramp.” Theon stood on the bridge's railing holding his old bow and wearing his quiver.

 _Dom!_ Fucking idiot must have left everything in the fucking trunk of the car he didn’t even thank Ramsay for. “Why should I?” Ramsay said sweetly to his old friend.

“I will incapacitate you and work with Domeric if you force me to. But I don’t want to shoot you, so just go home with what you’ve stolen already. Raise the ramp and then-”

“I don’t want to kill you either, Theon. What if I just wound you and drag you back to your cage? I’m going to start by taking those two fingers holding that arrow. If you don’t get down on your knees-”

“How will you shoot me without sending me into the river?” Theon shrugged. “You can kill me or raise the ramp or I can kill you once Domeric arrives. Raise. The. Ramp.”

Ramsay found himself inexcusably unprotected. His boys were covering him, but that was pretty fucking useless now. He lowered his gun to the ground and put his hands up. “You’re going to kill me?”

“Only if I have to.” Theon swallowed but his mouth and throat were too dry so he ended up clearing his throat, betraying his nerves.

“Bullshit.”

Theon had killed intruders before. This one was the worst. He could do it. “Times up, Ramsay!”

Ramsay frowned and crossed his arms. “Do it then.”

Theon sighed and let loose his arrow.

“Pft. You missed.” Behind Ramsay’s shoulder, Lil’ Walder dropped. Ramsay glanced back to see an arrow sticking out of his eye. “Wow.”

“I never miss,” Theon replied flatly.

“Alright. Walder wasn’t a great guy and he kicked you a few times, but I still _needed_ him, Theon. Three fingers now.”

Kyra and Jeyne started turning the pulleys to raise the ramp. Luton aimed at Jeyne’s head, but Theon struck first, hitting the poor son of a bitch in the lower left side of his back.

Luton dropped, screaming and sobbing in turns, calling Domeric’s name.

Ramsay watched the spectacle with a huff. “You are ruining my entire day. Fine. You win,” Ramsay conceded far too happily. “Now what?” He stooped to pick up his gun. “Hope you don’t mind,” he said checking the cartridge. “I feel a mob coming on.”

“I do mind. Throw the gun away.”

Ramsay aimed squarely at Keira’s beautiful head as she worked to save the bridge from the intruders at its doorstep. “Who do you love more?”

“Don’t! Don’t!”

“No. No, I really need to know. I really FUCKING NEED TO KNOW HOW THE FUCK YOU COULD _DO THIS SHIT TO ME!_ ” Ramsay started to turn to face Keira.

Every instant seemed to drag out so that Theon spent years trying to let the arrow go that would run through Ramsay’s skull. He wouldn’t see or feel it. It wouldn’t hurt. Theon didn’t even care! He hated that bastard!

“Shit.” Theon turned and jumped. His stomach flew up to his throat as the river raged flying towards him. It smacked him like it was solid. His head flew back past the hands holding it and he started slowly spinning and sinking.

After some time he remembered he needed to find the surface so he could breathe. He found the sunlight and pushed the muddy water down away from him, climbing up to the sweet air above.

As soon as he gasped a shot exploded to his side. Blood splashed around him and he started to sink, thinking he was dying. But it wasn’t _his_ blood. He heard a swish in the water and saw two yellow eyes with black slits staring right at him. The water wooshed and the eyes disappeared. “Oh god!”

Another explosion of water.

“THE SHORE!”

Theon looked up to the sun drenched bridge and just made out Ramsay’s silhouette screaming down and pointing. “THE SHORE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT! GET OUT OF THE WATER!” He aimed for another gator and used up another bullet.

Theon started swimming to his boat. Two more shots made fountains in the water. He used the anchor's rope to climb up, exactly the way he told Robb the zombies never would.

After a long struggle, Theon collapsed on the deck, hitting his temple when he landed. He moaned, working to catch his breath. The rope ladder dropped and swayed just a few feet ahead of him. “Shit!” He forced himself up and started pulling in the anchor.

“GET UP HERE!” Ramsay growled and stomped over to the two bitches in his fucking way. He smiled at the tan one before pulling the trigger, which clicked impotently. Ramsay sighed and ran to get the old man’s rifle. The little brown-eyed girl came roaring after him with a knife. He tossed her aside with a grunt and swiped the rifle, but the fucking rigid corpse wouldn’t let go. “You fucking cunt!”

Ramsay pulled harder and the little girl with the dark hair stabbed him in the ribs. An engine started gurgling and echoing off the river banks below. “DAMN IT!”

Ramsay wiggled then yanked the knife out of his rib cage and backhanded the her. The pale redhead clawed her way back up from underneath the table where she’d fallen and aimed a shaking barrell at him. Ramsay picked up her light friend and used the girl as a human shield.

 

Kyra cried out. It felt like her arms were being torn off, but she couldn’t let go and she couldn’t pull hard enough to get it to lock. She gasped when a rough hand touched her shoulder.

“Don’t work too hard now. Common, Hodor!” he encouraged himself quietly. He took both handles and rolled the pulley into a locked position.

 

“Toss me the gun, pretty wolf,” Ramsay asked politely. “Or should I toss you your friend’s pretty nose first to make it an even trade?”

He snarled and started sawing up Jeyne’s lip as Sansa watched in horror. She screamed with rage and threw the rifle away from him. He shoved Jeyne aside and rushed to grab it then shot the fucking pulley system like stupid perfect fucking Domeric said he should have in the first fucking place that very morning.

Luton wailed again. What horrible timing, Ramsay was all out of patience. He blew Luton’s pretty face apart with Sansa double barrel fully automatic.

A whining, tearing creak ripped through the air and the ramp lowered three feet before clicking into place then the whining started again.

“KYRA!” Theon shouted up. He pointed frantically to the held up a bucket and waved a white lifesaver over his head.

Kyra hopped down from the railing and looked around the bridge. It had been empty for months, but now it was just a handful of injured people and dead bodies.

“Ow!” Hodor tried to hold the rope, which started running through his hands.

“Let it go, honey. Help me get our friends, ok?”

 

Ramsay took Luton’s AK .50 since he wasn’t using it. Thankfully at least one asshole didn’t die selfishly clutching their weapon. He marched over to the stubborn rope that nearly had hanged him and shot at it the the fucking gears and pulleys until the ramp collapsed and shook the bridge.

Damon flew across on his dirtbike, followed by Skinner and Sour Alyn on his quad. Domeric galloped across on his horse, surveying the damage. He held his head a moment then closed his eyes and dismounted.

Ramsay laughed wildly and looked for those god damned bitches so he could fill them up with all this sweet little gun had to give. “Where are you? Find those fucking whores! I’m going to shoot your friends one by one until you climb up here, Theon!” he yelled over the edge of the bridge, but the boat was gone. “They’re on the other side!”

The plank bounced under Ramsay’s feet as he ran across to the outbound bridge. He wove his way through potted trees, green houses, and box gardens. The giant imbecile was rolling another fucking pulley.

 

They all reached out to grab Sansa as soon as she was close enough to drop. She pushed herself out of the bucket which had brought fish, duck, and turtles that Jory and Kyra had brought just two days earlier.

“JUMP, HODOR! JUMP INTO THE WATER!” She screamed.

“Get inside! Get inside!” Theon demanded. “He won’t let them kill me.”

“Why didn’t you kill him!” Sansa spun to scream. “What’s wrong with you?! What happened to Robb? What happened to Bran?”

“Domeric- one of them said Jon has a camp up the river in Minnesota. He wanted to take me to see my uncle in the Gulf. It’s better for us to split up anyway. You’ll have a real chance to get away.”

“What?”

Hodor caused another explosion in the water. Jeyne held a red towel under her nose with one hand and tossed Hodor the life persever with the other.

Theon popped open a side compartment and pulled the release to inflate a musty orange raft.

Kyra helped Sansa into the cabin, carefully avoiding her wounded shoulder.

 

“BURN IT ALL! POISON THE RIVER WITH ITS FUCKING ASHES!” Ramsay raged.

“What’s wrong? This is a major victory for you. DON’T BURN ANYTHING!” Domeric ordered then chased after Ramsay motioning for everyone to stay calm while he fixed this.

“Bring out those fucking walkers and light their asses up! Send them in flames!"

“But there’s no reason to destroy the bridge,” Domeric reasoned calmly. Ramsay turned on him so quickly, he gasped. “Look!” He pointed to an orange oval slowly making its way downstream. “He’s not on the boat!”

Ramsay froze for a moment furrowing his brow. At last, he smiled. “Of course, he isn’t. He’s not really leaving me. He’s just scared.” The boat sped away up river, but Ramsay didn’t notice. “You’ll take care of the bridge, won’t you?” He patted Dom’s arm. “I think I deserve an entertaining game after such an astounding success.”

Domeric nodded with a sad smile. “He could have come with me…” he murmured.

Ramsay laughed and whistled for his boys. “Who’s ready for a hunt?”


End file.
